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SHAKESPEARE'S TRAGEDY 

OF 

MACBETH 



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MRS. SIDDONS AS THE TRAGIC MUSE (siR J. REYNOLDS) 



SHAKESPEARE'S 



TRx\GEDY OF 



MACBETH 



Edited, with Notes, 



WILLIAM J. ROLFE, Litt. D., 

fORMERLY HEAD MASTER OF THE HIGH SCHOOL, CAMBRIDGE, MASS. 



IVITH ENGRA VINGS. 




NEW YORK ■:• CINCINNATI :• CHICAGO 

AMERICAN BOOK COMPANY 



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ENGLISH CLASSICS. 

Edited by WM. J. ROLFE, Litt. D. 
Illustrated. 12mo, Cloth, 56 cents per volume. 



Shakespeare's Works. 


The Merchant of Venice. 


Richard III. 


Othello. 


Henry VIII. 


Julius Caesar. 


King Lear. 


A Midsummer-Night's Dream. 


The Taming of the Shrew. 


Macbeth. 


All "s Well that Ends Well. 


Hamlet. 


Coriolanus. 


Much Ado about Nothing. 


The Comedy of Errors. 


Romeo and Juliet. 


Cymbeline. 


As You Like It. 


Antony and Cleopatra. 


The Tempest. 


Measure for Measure. 


Twelfth Night. 


Merry Wives of Windsor. 


The Winter's Tale. 


Love's Labour 's Lost. 


King John. 


Two Gentlemen of Verona. 


Richard II. 


Timon of Athens. 


Henry IV. Part I. 


Troilus and Cressida. 


Henry IV. Part II. 


Pericles, Prince of Tyre. 


Henry V. 


The Two Noble Kinsmen. 


Henry VI. Part I. 


Venus and Adonis, Lucrece, etc 


Henry VI. Part II. 


Sonnets. 


Henry VI. Part III. 


Titus Andronicus. 



Goldsmith's Select Poems. Browning's Select Poems. 

Gray's Select Poems. Browning's Select Dramas. 

Minor Poems of John Milton. Macaulay's Lays of Ancient Rome. 
Wordsworth's Select Poems. 



Lambs' Tales from Shakespeare's Comedies. 
Lambs' Tales from Shakespeare's Tragedies. 
Edited by WM. J. ROLFE, Litt. D. 
Illustrated. Cloth, 12ino, 50 cents per volume. 



Copyright, 1877 and 1898, by Harper & Brothers. 



Macbeth. 
W. P. 3 






48 65 5 5 
AUG 2 7 1942 



PREFACE 



In this edition of Macbeth the text is the result of a careful col- 
lation of the Folio of 1623 with all the modern editions that are of 
any critical value. 

In the notes I have been under special obligations to Mr. Horace 
Howard Furness, who has kindly allowed me to make free use of his 
"New Variorum" edition of the play (Philadelphia, 1873), in which 
much of my work was already done to my hand, and who has given 
me other help which I could hardly have got elsewhere. My indebted- 
ness to him is acknowledged on almost every page, but I do not know 
how to state it in full. 

So much has been written on Macbeth that the main difiiculty has 
been in selecting and condensing from it ; but, as in former volumes of 
the series, I have preferred to give too much rather than too little, 
bearing in mind that the great majority of readers and students have 
not access to a full Shakespearian library. The teacher, whether he 
have that privilege or not, will find Mr. Furness's edition invaluable 
for reference. It is a complete apparatus critictis compressed into a 
single volume, presenting in the most convenient form what one would 
else have to "turn o'er many books" to find, some of them so rare 
and costly as to be within the reach of only a favored few. 




THE HARMUIR, OR HEATH. 



CONTENTS, 



PAGE 

Introduction to Macbeth 9 

I. The History of the Play 9 

II. The Historical Sources of the Play 13 

III. Critical Comments on the Play , 15 

MACBETH 47 

Act 1 49 

" II 67 

" III 80 

" IV 97 

" V 115 

Notes 131 



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nil I 








GLAMIS CASTLE. 



INTRODUCTION TO MACBETH. 



I. THE HISTORY OF THE PLAY. 

'Macbeth was first printed in the folio of 1623, where it oc- 
cupies pages 131 to 151 inclusive, in the division of " Trage- 
dies." It was registered in the books of the Stationers" 
Company, on the 8th of November, 1623, by Blount and 
Jaggard, the publishers of the folio, as one of the plays 
"not formerly entered to other men." It was written be- 
tween 1604 and 1610; the former limit being fixed by the 
allusion to the union of England and Scotland under James 
I. (iv. I. 120), and the latter by the MS. Diary of Dr. Simon 
Forman, who saw the play performed "at the Globe, 1610, 
the 20th of April, Saturday."* It may then have been a 

* This MS. is preserved in the Bodleian Library at Oxford. The pas- 
sage referring to Macbeth is as follows, the spelling being modernized : 

"In Macbeth, at the Globe, 1610, the 20th of April, Saturday, there 
was to be observed first how Macbeth and Banquo, two noblemen of 



lO MACBETH. 

new play,* but it is more probable, as nearly all the critics 
agree, that it was written in 1605 or 1606. The accession 

Scotland, riding through a wood, there stood before them three women, 
fairies or nymphs, and saluted Macbeth, saying three times unto him. 
Hail, Macbeth, king of Codor, for thou shall be a king, but shall beget 
no kings, etc. Then said Banquo, What, all to Macbeth and nothing to 
me ? Yes, said the nymphs, Hail, to thee, Banquo ; thou shall beget 
kings, yet be no king. And so they departed, and came to the Court of 
Scotland, to Duncan king of Scots, and it was in the days of Edward the 
Confessor. And Duncan bade them both kindly welcome, and made 
Macbeth \sic\ forthwith Prince of Northumberland, and sent him home 
to his own castle, and appointed Macbeth to provide for him, for he 
would sup with him the next day at night, and did so. And Macbeth 
contrived to kill Duncan, and through the persuasion of his wife did that 
night murder the king in his own castle, being his guest. And there 
were many prodigies seen that night and the day before. And when 
Macbeth had murdered the king, the blood on his hands could not be 
washed off by any means, nor from his wife's hands, which handled the 
bloody daggers in hiding them, by which means they became both much 
amazed and affronted. The murder being known, Duncan's two sons 
fled, the one to England, the [other to] Wales, to save themselves ; they 
being fled, they were supposed guilty of the murder of their father, which 
was nothing so. Then was Macbeth crowned king, and then he for fear 
of Banquo, his old companion, that he should beget kings but be no king 
himself, he contrived the death of Banquo, and caused him to be murder- 
ed on the way as he rode. The next night, being at supper with his 
noblemen, whom he had bid to a feast, to the which also Banquo should 
have come, he began to speak of noble. Banquo, and to wish that he were 
there. And as he thus did, standing up to drink a carouse to him, the 
ghost of Banquo came and sat down in his chair behind him. And he, 
turning about to sit down again, saw the ghost of Banquo, which fronted 
him so that he fell in a great passion of fear and fury, uttering many 
words about his murder, by which, when they heard that Banquo was 
murdered, they suspected Macbeth. Then Macduff fled to England to 
the king's son, and so they raised an army and came into Scotland, and 
at Dunscenanyse overthrew Macbeth. In the mean time, while Macduff 
was in England, Macbeth slew Macduff's wife and children, and after, in 
the battle, Macduff slew Macbeth. Observe also how Macbeth's queen 
did rise in the night in her sleep, and walked, and talked and confessed 
^11, and the Doctor noted her words." 

* The Clarendon Press editors think it was, since otherwise Form^n 



INTRODUCTION. n 

of James made Scottish subjects popular in England, and 
the \dX^ oi Macbeth and Bafiqiio would be one of the first to 
be brought forward, as Banquo was held to be an ancestor 
of the new king. A Latin "interlude" on this subject was 
performed at Oxford in 1605, on the occasion of the king's 
visit to the city ; but there is no reason for supposing, as 
Farmer did, that Shakespeare got the hint of his tragedy 
from that source. ' 

It is barely possible that there was an earlier play on the 
subject of Macbeth. Collier finds in the Registers of the 
Stationers' Company, under date of August 27, 1596, the 
entry of a " Ballad of Makdobeth," which he gives plausible 
reasons for supposing to have been a drama, and not a 
"ballad" properly so called. There appears to be a ref- 
erence to the same piece in Kemp's Nine Days'' -Wonder^ 
printed in 1600, where it is called a "miserable stolne 
story," the work of " a penny Poet." 

Steevens maintained that Shakespeare was indebted, in the 
supernatural parts oi Macbeth, to The Witch, a play by Thomas 
Middleton, which was discovered in manuscript towards the 
close of the last century. Malone at first took the same 
yiew of the subject, but afterwards came to the conclusion 

"would scarcely have been at the pains to make an elaborate summary 

of the plot." But that merely shows that the play was new to him, and 

that the story made a deep impression upon him. 

The same editors find "an obvious allusion to the ghost of Banquo" 

in Beaumont and Fletcher's Knight of the Burning Pestle, produced in 

1611 : 

"When thou art at the table with thy friends, 
Merry in heart and fill'd with swelling wine, 
I'll come in midst of all thy pride and mirth, 
Invisible to all men but thyself;" 

and they think that " this supports the inference that Macbeth was in 
161 1 a new play, and fresh in the recollection of the audience." But 
Mr. Halliwell finds quite as obvious an allusion to Banquo's ghost in 
the Puritan, printed in 1607 : " we'll ha' the ghost i' th' white sheet sit 
at upper end o' th' table." 



12 MACBETH. 

that Middleton's play was the later production, and that he 
must therefore be the plagiarist. The Clarendon Press ed- 
itors take the ground that there are portions of Macbeth 
which Shakespeare did not write; that these were interpo- 
lated after the poet's death, or at least after he had ceased 
to be connected with the theatre ; and that " the interpolator 
was, not improbably, Thomas Middleton." Mr. F. G. Fleay 
also, in a paper read before the New Shakspere Society, 
June 26, 1874, makes this statement : ''''Macbeth in its present 
state is an altered copy of the original drama, and the alter- 
ations were made by Middleton.'"* 

These views have found little favour with other Shake- 
spearian critics. A more satisfactory explanation of the im- 
perfections of the play ascribes them to the haste with which 
it was written. t White, who refers its composition to "the 
period between October, 1604, and August, 1605," remarks : 
" I am the more inclined to this opinion from the indications 
which the play itself affords that it was produced upon an 
emergency. It exhibits throughout the hasty execution of a 
grand and clearly conceived design. But the haste is that 

* The Clarendon Press editors and Mr. Fleay agree quite closely in 
regard to the portions of the play which they assign to Middleton. Their 
criticisms on most of these passages are mentioned in our notes. We 
may refer those who are interested in the literature of the subject to the 
C. P. ed. o{ Macbeth, p. viii. fol., Furness's " New Variorum" ed. oi Mac- 
beth, p. 388 fol., Transactions of New Shakspere Society, 1874, p. 339 fol. 
and 498 fol., and Fleay's Shakespeare Mamial, part ii., chap. x. 

t Mr. F. J. Furnivall, in his introduction to Gervinus's Commentaries on 
Shakespeare, translated by Miss Bunnett (London : 1874), referring to Mr. 
Fleay's criticisms, says : "Mr. Hales thinks that the change to the tro- 
chaic metre* in Hecate's speeches, and their inferior quality, point to a 
different hand, perhaps Middleton's ; but that is all of the play that he or 
I (who still hesitate) can yet surrender. The wonderful pace at which 
the play was plainly written — a feverish haste drives it on — will account 
for many weaknesses in detail." 

* This is evidently a slip of the pen. Mr. Furnivall meant to write "to the ia->nbic 
metre." The witches, as Mr. Hales remarks, always speak in trochaics, and Hecate 
always in iambics {Trans, of Ngw Shaksp. Soc. 1874, p. 507). 



INTR OD UC TION. 



13 



of a master of his art, who, with conscious command of its 
resources, and in the frenzy of a grand inspiration, works out 
his composition to its minutest detail of essential form, leav- 
ing the work of surface finish for the occupation of cooler 
leisure. What the Sistine Madonna was to Raphael, it seems 
\}ci2X Macbeth was to Shakespeare — a magnificent impromptu ; 
that kind of impromptu which results from the application 
of well-disciplined powers and rich stores of thought to a 
subject suggested by occasion. I am inclined to regard 
Macbeth as, for the most part, a specimen of Shakespeare's 
unelaborated, if not unfinished, writing, in the maturity and 
highest vitality of his genius. It abounds in instances of 
extremest compression and most daring ellipsis, while it ex- 
hibits in every scene a union of supreme dramatic and poetic 
power, and in almost every line an imperially irresponsible 
control of language. Hence, I think, its lack of complete- 
ness of versification in certain passages, and also some of 
the imperfection of the text, the thought in which the com- 
positors were not always able to follow and apprehend." 

II. THE HISTORICAL SOURCES OF THE PLAY. 

Shakespeare drew the materials for the plot of Macbeth 
from Holinshed's " Chronicles of Englande, Scotlande, and 
Ireland," the first edition of which was published in 1577, 
and the second (which was doubtless the one the poet used) 
in 1586-87."^ The extracts from Holinshed in our notes will 
show that the main incidents are taken from his account of 

* Rev. C. E. Moberly, in his edition oi Macbeth (London : 1872), says 
that the whole story is told "in Albion'' s England, published just before 
Elizabeth's death," The first edition of Albion'' s England, containing 
thirteen "books" of the poem, appeared in 1586, but the story of Mac- 
beth is in the " Fifteenth Book," which forms part of the " Continuance," 
first published in 1606. 

As Shakespeare used the second edition of Holinshed in writing 
Richard II. (see our edition of that play, p. 14), there can be no doubt 
that he used it for Macbeth, which was written later. 



14 MACBETH. 

two separate events — the murder of Duncan by Macbeth, and 
that of King Duffe, the great-grandfather of Lady Macbeth, 
by Donwald. It will be seen, too, that Shakespeare has de- 
viated in other respects from the chronicle, especially in the 
character of Banquo. 

Although, as Knight remarks, "the interest oi Macbeth is 
not an historical interest," so that it matters little whether 
the action is true or has been related as true, we may add, 
for the benefit of our younger readers, that the story of the 
drama is almost wholly apocryphal. The more authentic 
history is thus summarized by Sir Walter Scott : 

" Duncan, by his mother Beatrice a grandson of Malcolm 
II., succeeded to the throne on his grandfather's death, in 
1033 : he reigned only six years. Macbeth, his near rela- 
tion, also a grandchild of Malcolm II., though by the mother's 
side, was stirred up by ambition to contest the throne with 
the possessor. The Lady of Macbeth also, whose real name 
was Graoch, had deadly injuries to avenge on the reigning 
prince. She was the granddaughter of Kenneth IV., killed 
1003, fighting against Malcolm II. ; and other causes for re- 
venge animated the mind of her who has been since painted 
as the sternest of women. The old annalists add some in- 
stigations of a supernatural kind to the influence of a vindic- 
tive woman over an ambitious husband. Three women, of 
more than human stature and beauty, appeared to Macbeth 
in a dream or vision, and hailed him successively by the 
titles of Thane of Cromarty, Thane of Moray, which the 
king afterwards bestowed on him, and finally by that of King 
of Scots ; this dream, it is said, inspired him with the seduc- 
tive hopes so well expressed in the drama, 

" Macbeth broke no law of hospitality in his attempt on 
Duncan's life. He attacked and slew the king at a place 
called Bothgowan, or the Smith's House, near Elgin, in 1039, 
and not, as has been supposed, in his own castle of Inverness. 
The act was bloody, as was the complexion of the times ; 



INI'RODUCTION. 



15 



but, in very truth, the claim of Macbeth to the throne, ac- 
cording to the rule of Scottish succession, was better than 
that of Duncan. As a king, the tyrant so much exclaimed 
against was, in reality, a firm, just, and equitable prince.* 
Apprehensions of danger from a party which Malcolm, the 
eldest son of the slaughtered Duncan, had set on foot in 
Northumberland, and still maintained in Scotland, seem, in 
process of time, to have soured the temper of Macbeth, and 
rendered him formidable to his nobility. Against Macduff, 
in particular, the powerful Maormor of Fife, he had uttered 
some threats which occasioned that chief to fly from the 
court of Scotland. Urged by this new counsellor, Siward, 
the Danish Earl of Northumberland, invaded Scotland in the 
year 1054, displaying his banner in behalf of the banished 
Malcolm. Macbeth engaged the foe in the neighbourhood 
of his celebrated castle of Dunsinane. He was defeated, but 
escaped from the battle, and was slain at Lumphanan in 
1056." 

Whether Shakespeare was ever in Scotland is a question 
that has been much discussed. Knight {Biography, ed. 1865, 
p. 420 fol.) endeavours to prove that the poet visited that 
country in 1589, but most of the editors agree that there is 
no satisfactory evidence of his having ever been there. f 

III. CRITICAL COMMENTS ON THE PLAY. 
[From Hazlitfs ^'Characters of Shakespeare' s Plays.''''X\ 

Macbeth (generally speaking) is done upon a stronger and 
more systematic principle of contrast than any other of 

* As Rev. Mr. Moberly remarks, this view is confirmed by Mr. E. Ac 
Freeman {Norman -Conquest, \\. '^. <,''^ \ "All genuine Scottish tradition 
points to the reign of Macbeth as a period of unusual peace and prosper- 
ity in that disturbed land." 

t For a good summary of the discussion see Furness's Macbeth, p. 
407 fol, 

X Characters of Shakespeare'' s Plays, by William Hazlitt, edited by W, 
Carew Hazlitt (London, 1869), p. 17. 



1 6 MACBETH. 

Shakespeare's plays. It moves upon the verge of an abyss, 
and is a constant struggle between life and death. The ac- 
tion is desperate and the reaction is dreadful. It is a hud- 
dling together of fierce extremes, a war of opposite natures 
which of them shall destroy the other. There is nothing but 
what has a violent end or violent beginnings. The lights 
and shades are laid on with a determined hand ; the transi- 
tions from triumph to despair, from the height of terror to 
the repose of death, are sudden and startling; every passion 
brings in its fellow -contrary, and the thoughts pitch and 
jostle against each other as in the dark. The whole play is 
an unruly chaos of strange and forbidden things, where the 
ground rocks under our feet. Shakespeare's genius here 
took its full swing, and trod upon the farthest bounds of nat- 
ure and passion. This circumstance will account for the 
abruptness and violent antitheses of the style, the throes and 
labour which run through the expression, and from defects 
will turn them into beauties. " So fair and foul a day," etc. 
" Such w^elcome and unwelcome news together." " Men's 
lives are like the flowers in their caps, dying or ere they sick- 
en." " Look like the innocent flower, but be the serpent 
under it." The scene before the castle-gate follows the ap- 
pearance of the wkches on the heath, and is followed by a 
midnight murder. Duncan is cut off betimes by treason 
leagued with witchcraft, and Macduff is ripped untimely from 
his mother's womb to avenge his death. Macbeth, after the 
death of Banquo, wishes for his presence in extravagant 
terms, "To all, and him, we thirst," and when his ghost ap- 
pears, cries out, " Avaunt and quit my sight," and being 
gone, he is "himself again." ... In Lady Macbeth's speech, 
" Had he not resembled my father as he slept, I had done't," 
there is murder and filial piety together, and in urging him to 
fulfil his vengeance against the defenceless king, her thoughts 
spare the blood neither of infants nor old age. The descrip- 
tion of the witches is full of the same contradictory principle; 



INTRODUCTION. 



I? 



they "rejoice when good kings bleed,"* they are neither of 
the earth nor the air, but both ; " they should be women, but 
their beards forbid it;" they take all the pains possible to 
lead Macbeth on to the height of his ambition, only to be- 
tray him " in deeper consequence," and after showing him 
all the pomp of their art, discover their malignant delight in 
his disappointed hopes by that bitter taunt, " Why stands 
Macbeth thus amazedly ?" We might multiply such in- 
stances everywhere. ... 

[F7'om Mrs. Jameson^ s " Characteristics of Women.'''' '\'\ 

In the mind of Lady Macbeth, ambition is represented as 
the ruling motive, an intense overmastering passion, which is 
gratified at the expense of every just and generous principle, 
and every feminine feeling. In the pursuit of her object, she 
is cruel, treacherous, and daring. She is doubly, trebly dyed 
in guilt and blood ; for the murder she instigates is rendered 
more frightful by disloyalty and ingratitude, and by the vio- 
lation of all the most sacred claims of kindred and hospital- 
ity. When her husband's more kindly nature shrinks from 
the perpetration of the deed of horror, she, like an evil genius, 
whispers him on to his damnation. The full measure of her 
wickedness is never disguised, the magnitude and atrocity 
of her crime is never extenuated, forgotten, or forgiven, in 
the whole course of the play. . . . Lady Macbeth's amazing 
power of intellect, her inexorable determination of purpose, 
her superhuman strength of nerve, render her as fearful in 
herself as her deeds are hateful ; yet she is not a mere mon- 
ster of depravity, with whom we have nothing in common, 
nor a meteor whose destroying path we watch in ignorant 
affright and amaze. She is a terrible impersonation of evil 

* Mr. Furness, quoting this in his edition o{ Macbeth (p. 415), asks: *'Is 
it not passing strange that Hazlitt should have forgotten that this line is 
none of Shakespeare's ?" 

t American ed. (Boston : 1857), p. 443 fol. 



1 8 MACBETH. 

passions and mighty powers, never so far removed from our 
own nature as to be cast beyond the pale of our sympathies; 
for the woman herself remains a woman to the last — still 
linked with her sex and with humanity. 

We must bear in mind that the first idea of murdering 
Duncan is not suggested by Lady Macbeth to her husband : 
it springs within his mind, and is revealed to us [i. 3. 130-137] 
before his first interview with his wife — before she is intro- 
duced or even alluded to. 

It will be said that the same "horrid suggestion" presents 
itself spontaneously to her, on the reception of his letter; or, 
rather, that the letter acts upon her mind as a prophecy of 
the Weird Sisters on the mind of her husband, kindling the 
latent passion for empire into a quenchless flame. We are 
prepared to see the train of evil, first lighted by hellish 
agency, extend itself to her through the medium of her hus- 
band; but we are spared the more revolting idea that it 
originated with her. The guilt is thus more equally di- 
vided than we should suppose, when we hear people pity- 
ing " the noble nature of Macbeth," bewildered and goad- 
ed on to crime, solely or chiefly by the instigation of his 
wife. 

It is true that she afterwards appears the more active 
agent of the two ; but it is less through her preeminence in 
wickedness than through her superiority of intellect. The 
eloquence — the fierce, fervid eloquence with which she bears 
down the relenting and reluctant spirit of her husband, the 
dexterous sophistry with which she wards off his objections, 
her artful and affected doubts of his courage — the sarcastic 
manner in which she lets fall the word coward — a word which 
no man can endure from another, still less from a woman, 
and least of all from a woman he loves — and the bold ad- 
dress with which she removes all obstacles, silences all argu- 
ments, overpowers all scruples, and marshals the way before 
him, absolutely make us shrink before the commanding in- 



INTROD UCTION-. 1 9 

tellect of the woman, with a terror in which interest and ad- 
miration are strangely mingled. 

Again, in the murdering scene, the obdurate inflexibility 
of purpose with which she drives on Macbeth to the execu- 
tion of their project, and her masculine indifference to blood 
and death, would inspire unmitigated disgust and horror, but 
for the involuntary consciousness that it is produced rather 
by the exertion of a strong power over herself than by ab- 
solute depravity of disposition and ferocity of temper. This 
impression of her character is brought home at once to our 
very hearts with the most profound knowledge of the springs 
of nature within us, the most subtle mastery over their vari- 
ous operations, and a feeling of dramatic effect not less won- 
derful. The very passages in which Lady Macbeth displays 
the most savage and relentless determination are so v/orded 
as to fill the mind with the idea of sex, and place the woman 
before us in all her dearest attributes, at once softening and 
refining the horror and rendering it more intense. Thus 
when she reproaches her husband for his weakness — " From 
this time such I account thy love." Again, " Come to my 
woman's breasts And take my milk for gall," etc. "I have 
given suck, and know how tender 'tis To love the babe that 
milks me," etc. And lastly, in the moment of extremest 
terror comes that unexpected touch of feeling, so startling, 
yet so wonderfully true to nature — "Had he not resembled 
my father," etc. Thus in one of Weber's or Beethoven's 
grand symphonies, some unexpected soft minor chord or 
passage will steal on the ear, heard amid the magnificent 
crash of harmony, making the blood pause and filling the 
eyes with unbidden tears. 

It is particularly observable that in Lady Macbeth's con- 
centrated, strong-nerved ambition, the ruling passion of her 
mind, there is yet a touch of womanhood : she is ambitious 
less for herself than for her husband. It is fair to think this, 
because we have no reason to draw any other inference 



20 MACBETH. 

either from her words or her actions. In her famous solilo- 
quy, after reading her husband's letter, she does not once 
refer to herself. It is of him she thinks : she wishes to see 
her husband on the throne, and to place the sceptre within 
his grasp. The strength of her affection adds strength to 
her ambition. Although in the old story of Boethius we are 
told that the wife of Macbeth "burned with unquenchable 
desire to bear the name of queen," yet in the aspect under 
which Shakespeare has represented the character to us the 
selfish part of this ambition is kept out of sight. We must 
remark also, that in Lady Macbeth's reflections on her hus- 
band's character, and on that milkiness of nature which she 
fears "may impede him from the golden round," there is no 
indication of female scorn : there is exceeding pride, but no 
egotism,' in the sentiment or the expression; no want of wife- 
ly or womanly respect and love for hh7i^ but, on the contrar}-, 
a sort of unconsciousness of her own mental superiority, 
which she betrays rather than asserts, as interesting in itself 
as it is most admirably conceived and delineated. Nor is 
there any thing vulgar in her ambition ; as the strength of 
her affections lends to it something profound and concen- 
trated, so her splendid imagination invests the object of her 
desire with its own radiance. We cannot trace in her grand 
and capacious mind that it is the mere baubles and trappings 
of royalty which dazzle and allure her : hers is the sin of the 
"star-bright apostate," and she plunges with her husband 
into the abyss of guilt to procure for " all their days and 
nights sole sovereign sway and masterdom." She revels, 
she luxuriates, in her dream of power. She reaches at the 
golden diadem which is to sear her brain ; she perils life and 
soul for its attainment, with an enthusiasm as perfect, a faith 
as settled, as that of the martyr who sees at the stake heaven 
and its crowns of glory opening upon him. . . . 

Lady Macbeth having proposed the object to herself, and 
arrayed it with an ideal glory, fixes her eye steadily upon 



iNTR on uc no IV. 2 1 

it, soars far above all womanish feelings and scruples to at- 
tain it, and stoops upon her victim with the strength and 
velocity of a vulture ; but having committed unfiinchingl}/ 
the crime necessary fo? the attainment of her purpose, she 
stops there. After the murder of Duncan, we see Lady Mac- 
beth, during the rest of the play, occupied in supporting the 
nervous weakness and sustaining the fortitude of her hus- 
band. . . . But she is nowhere represented as urging him on 
to new crimes; so far from it, that when Macbeth darkly 
hints his purposed assassination of Banquo, and she inquires 
his meaning, he replies, " Be innocent of the knowledge, 
dearest chuck. Till thou approve the deed." The same may 
be said of the destruction of Macduff's family. Every one 
must perceive how our detestation of the woman had been 
increased, if she had been placed before us as suggesting 
and abetting those additional cruelties into which Macbeth 
is hurried by his mental cowardice. 

If my feeling of Lady Macbeth's character be just to the 
conception of the poet, then she is one who could steel her- 
self to the commission of a crime from necessity and expe- 
diency, and be daringly wicked for a great end, but not like- 
ly to perpetrate gratuitous murders from any vague or selfish 
fears. I do not mean to say that the perfect confidence ex- 
isting between herself and Macbeth could possibly leave her 
in ignorance of his actions or designs : that heart-broken 
and shuddering allusion to the murder of Lady Macduff (in 
the sleeping scene) proves the contrary. But she is nowhere 
brought before us in immediate connection with these horrors, 
and we are spared any flagrant proof of her participation in 
them. . . . 

Another thing has always struck me. During the supper 
scene, . . . her indignant rebuke [to her husband], her low 
whispered remonstrance, the sarcastic emphasis with which 
she combats his sick fancies, and endeavours to recall him to 
himself, have an intenseness, a severity, a bitterness, which 



22 MACBETH. 

makes the blood creep. Yet, when the guests are dismissed} 
and they are left alone, she says no more, and not a syllable 
of reproach or scorn escapes her : a few words in submissive 
reply to his questions, and an entreaty to seek repose, are all 
she permits herself to utter. There is a touch of pathos and 
of tenderness in this silence which has always affected me 
beyond expression : it is one of the most masterly and most 
beautiful traits of character in the whole play. 

Lastly, it is clear that in a mind constituted like that of 
Lady Macbeth conscience must wake some time or other, and 
bring with it remorse closed by despair, and despair by death. 
This great moral retribution was to be displayed to us — but 
how? Lady Macbeth is not a woman to start at shadows; 
she mocks at air-drawn daggers; she sees no imagined spec- 
tres rise from the tomb to appal or accuse her. The tower- 
ing bravery oi her mind disdains the visionary terrors which 
haunt her weaker husband. We know, or rather feel, that 
she who could give a voice to the most direful intent, and 
call on the spirits that wait on mortal thoughts to "unsex 
her," and "stop up all access and passage of remorse" — to 
that remorse would have given nor tongue nor sound ; and 
that rather than have uttered a complaint, she would have 
held her breath and died. To have given her a confidant, 
though in the partner of her guilt, would have been a de- 
grading resource, and have disappointed and enfeebled all 
our previous impressions of her character; yet justice is to 
be done, and we are to be made acquainted with that which 
the woman herself would have suffered a thousand deaths 
rather than have betrayed. In the sleeping scene we have 
a glimpse into that inward hell : the seared brain and broken 
heart are laid bare before us in the helplessness of slumber. 
By a judgment the most sublime ever imagined, yet the most 
unforced, natural, and inevitable, the sleep of her who mur- 
dered sleep is no longer repose, but a condensation of resist- 
less horrors which the prostrate intellect and the powerless 



INTRODUCTION. 23 

will can neither baffle nor repel. We shudder and are satis- 
fied ; yet our human sympathies are again touched ; we rather 
sigh over the riiin than exult in it; and after watching her 
through this wonderful scene with a sort of fascination, we 
dismiss the unconscious, helpless, despair-stricken murderess 
with a feeling which Lady Macbeth, in her waking strength, 
with all her awe-commanding powers about her, could never 
have excited. 

It is here especially we perceive that sweetness of nature 
which in Shakespeare went hand in hand with his astonish- 
ing powers. He never confounds that line of demarcation 
which eternally separates good from evil, yet he never 
places evil before us without exciting in some way a con- 
sciousness of the opposite good which shall balance and re- 
lieve it. . . . 

What would not the firmness, the self-command, the en- 
thusiasm, the intellect, the ardent affections of this woman 
have performed, if properly directed.'' but the object being 
unworthy of the effort, the end is disappointment, despair, 
and death. 

The power of religion could alone have controlled such a 
mind; but it is the misery of a very proud, strong, and gifted 
spirit, without sense of religion, that instead of looking up- 
ward to find a superior, it looks around and sees all things 
as subject to itself. Lady Macbeth is placed in a dark, igno- 
rant, iron age ; her powerful intellect is slightly tinged with 
its credulity and superstitions, but she has no religious feel- 
ing to restrain the force of will. She is a stern fatalist in 
principle and action — "What is done, is done," and would 
be done over again under the same circumstances; her re- 
morse is without repentance or any reference to an oftended 
Deity; it arises from the pang of a wounded conscience, the 
recoil of the violated feelings of nature; it is the horror of 
the past, not the terror of the future; the torture of self- 
condemnation, not the fear of judgment; it is strong as her 



24 



MACBETH. 



soul, deep as her guilt, fatal as her resolve, and terrible as 
her crime. 

If it should be objected to this view of Lady Macbeth's 
character, that it engages our sympathies in behalf of a per- 
verted being, and that to leave her so strong a power upon 
our feelings in the midst of such supreme wickedness in- 
volves a moral wrong, I can only reply in the words of Dr. 
Channing, that " in this and the like cases our interest fast- 
ens on what is not evil in the character — that there is some- 
thing kindling and ennobling in the consciousness, however 
awakened, of the energy which resides in mind : and many 
a virtuous man has borrowed new strength from the force, 
constancy, aud dauntless courage of evil agents." 

This is true; and might he not have added that many a 
powerful and gifted spirit has learned humility and self-gov- 
ernment from beholding how far the energy which resides in 
mind may be degraded and perverted .'* 

\jFrom Fletcher's ^'■Studies of Shakespeare. ''''^'\ 

Macbeth seems inspired by the very genius of the tempest. 
This drama shows us the gathering, the discharge, and the 
dispelling of a domestic and political storm, which takes its 
peculiar hue from the individual character of the hero. It 
is not in the spirit of mischief that animates the " weird sis- 
ters," nor in the passionate and strong-willed ambition of 
Lady Macbeth, that we find the mainspring of this tragedy, 
but in the disproportioned though poetically tempered soul 
of Macbeth himself A character like this, of extreme self- 
ishness, with a most irritable fancy, must produce, even in 
ordinary circumstances, an excess of morbid apprehensive- 
ness; which, however, as we see in him, is not inconsistent 
with the greatest physical courage, but generates of necessity 
the most entire moral cowardice. When, therefore, a man 

* Studies of Shakespeare, etc., by George Fletcher (London, 1847), p. 
109 fol. 



INTRO D UCTION. 



25 



like this, ill enough qualified even for the honest and straight- 
forward transactions of life, has brought himself to snatch at 
an ambitious object by the commission of one great sangui- 
nary crime, the new and false position in which he finds him- 
self by his very success will but startle and exasperate him 
to escape, as Macbeth says, from "horrible imaginings" by 
the perpetration of greater and greater actual horrors, till in- 
evitable destruction comes upon us amidst universal execra- 
tion. Such, briefly, are the story and the moral of Macbeth. 
The passionate ambition and indomitable will of his lady, 
though agents indispensable to urge such a man to the one 
decisive act which is to compromise him in his own opinion 
and that of the world, are by no means primary springs of 
the dramatic action. Nor do the "weird sisters" themselves 
do more than aid collaterally in impelling a man, the in- 
herent evil of whose nature and purpose has predisposed 
him to take their equivocal suggestions in the most mis- 
chievous sense. And, finally, the very thunder-cloud which, 
from the beginning almost to the ending, wraps this fear- 
ful tragedy in physical darkness and lurid glare, does but 
reflect and harmonize with the moral blackness of the 
piece. . . . 

The very starting-point for an inquiry into the real, in- 
herent, and habitual nature of Macbeth, independent of 
those particular circumstances which form the action of the 
play, lies manifestly, though the critics have commonly over- 
looked it, in the question. With whom does the scheme of 
usurping the Scottish crown by the murder of Duncan actu- 
ally originate ? We sometimes find Lady Macbeth talked of 
as if she were the first contriver of the plot, and suggester of 
the assassination ; but this notion is refuted, not only by im- 
plication, in the whole tenor of the piece, but most explicit- 
ly in i. 7. 48-52. Most commonly, however, the witches (as 
we find the "weird sisters" pertinaciously miscalled by all 
sorts of players and of critics) have borne the imputation of 



26 MACBETH. 

being the first to put this piece of mischief in the hero's 
mind. Yet the prophetic words in which the attainment of 
royalty is promised him contain not the remotest hint as to 
the means by which he is to arrive at it. They are simply 
"All hail, Macbeth! that shalt be king hereafter" — an an- 
nouncement which, it is plain, should have rather inclined a 
man who was ?iot already harbouring a scheme of guilty am- 
bition to wait quietly the course of events. According to 
Macbeth's own admission, the words of the weird sisters on 
this occasion convey any thing rather than an incitement to 
murder to the mind of a man who is not meditating it al- 
ready. This supernatural soliciting is only made such to 
the mind of Macbeth by the fact that he is already occupied 
with a purpose of assassination. This is the true answer to 
the question which he puts to himself in i. 3. 132-142. . . . 

The first thing that strikes us in such a character is the 
intense selfishness — the total absence both of sympathetic 
feeling and moral principle — and the consequent incapabil- 
ity of remorse in the proper sense of the term. So far from 
finding any check to his design in the fact that the king be- 
stows on him the forfeited title of the traitorous thane of 
Cawdor as an especial mark of confidence in his loyalty, this 
only serves to whet his own villainous purpose. The drama- 
tist has brought this forcibly home to us in i. 4. 10-58. It 
is from no " compunctious visiting of nature," but from sheer 
moral cowardice — from fear of retribution in this life — that 
we find Macbeth shrinking, at the last moment, from the 
commission of his enormous crime. This will be seen the 
more attentively we consider i. 7. 1-25, and 31-35. In all 
this we trace a most clear consciousness of the impossibility 
that he should find of masking his guilt from the public eye 
— the odium which must consequently fall upon him in the 
opinions of men — and the retribution it would probably 
bring upon him. But here is no evidence of true ?noral re- 
pugnance, and as little of any religious scruple — "We'd 



INTR OD UC TION. 2 7 

jump the life to come." The dramatist, by this brief but 
significant parenthesis, has taken care to leave us in no 
doubt on a point so momentous towards forming a due es- 
timate of the conduct of his hero. However, he feels, as 
we see, the dissuading motives of worldly prudence in all 
their force. But one devouring passion urges him on — the 
master-passion of his life — the lust of power, i. 7. 26. Still, 
it should seem that the considerations of policy and safety 
regarding this life might even have withheld him from the 
actual commission of the murder, had not the spirit of his 
wife come in to fortify his failing purpose. At all events, in 
the action of the drama it is her intervention, most decided- 
ly, that terminates his irresolution, and urges him to the 
final perpetration of the crime which he himself had been 
the first to meditate. 

It is most important that we should not mistake the nat- 
ure of Macbeth's nervous perturbation while in the very act 
of consummating his first great crime. The more closely 
we examine it, the more we shall find it to be devoid of all 
genuine compunction. This character is one of intense self- 
ishness, and is therefore incapable of any true moral re- 
pugnance to inflicting injury upon others; it shrinks only 
from encountering public odium, and the retribution which 
that may produce. Once persuaded that these will be avoid- 
ed, Macbeth falters not in proceeding to apply th^ dagger to 
the throat of his sleeping guest. But here comes the dis- 
play of the other part of his character — that extreme ner- 
vous irritability which, combined with an active intellect, pro- 
duces in him so much highly poetical rumination — and at 
the same time, being unaccompanied with the slightest por- 
tion of self-command, subjects him to such signal moral 
cowardice. We feel bound the more earnestly to solicit the 
reader's attention to this distinction, since, though so clearly 
evident when once pointed out, it has escaped the penetra- 
tion of some even of the most eminent critics. The poetry 



28 MACBETH. 

delivered by Macbeth, let us repeat, is not the poetry in- 
spired by a glowing or even a feeling heart — it springs exclu- 
sively from a morbidly irritable fancy. We hesitate not to 
say that his wife mistakes, when she apprehends that the 
"milk of human kindness" will prevent him from "catching 
the nearest way." The fact is that, until after the banquet 
scene, she mistakes his character throughout. She judges 
of it too much from her own. Possessing generous feeling 
herself, she is susceptible of remorse. Full of self-control, 
and afflicted with no feverish imagination, she is dismayed 
by no vague apprehensions, no fantastic fears. Consequent- 
ly, when her husband is withheld from his crime simply by 
that dread of contingent consequences which his fancy so 
infinitely exaggerates, she, little able to conceive of this, 
naturally ascribes some part of his repugnance to that "milk 
of human kindness," those "compunctious visitings of nat- 
ure," of which she can conceive. . . . The perturbation which 
seizes Macbeth the instant he has struck the fatal blow, 
springs not, we repeat, from the slightest consideration for 
his victim. It is but the necessary recoil in the mind of 
every moral coward, upon the final performance of any de- 
cisive act from which accumulating selfish apprehensions 
have long withheld him — heightened and exaggerated by 
that excessive morbid irritability which, after his extreme 
selfishness, forms the next great moral characteristic of 
Macbeth. It is the sense oi all "(h^ possible consequences to 
himself, and that alone, which rushes instantly and over- 
whelmingly upon his excitable fancy, so as to thunder its 
denunciations in his very ears. 

The following scene shows us Macbeth, when his parox- 
ysm ensuing upon the act of murder has quite spent itself, 
and he is become quite himself again — that is, the cold- 
blooded, cowardly, and treacherous assassin. Let any one 
who may have been disposed, with most of the critics, to 
believe that Shakespeare has delineated Macbeth as a char- 



INTRO D UCTION. 



29 



acter originally remorseful, well consider that speech of most 
elaborate, refined, and cold-blooded hypocrisy, in which, so 
speedily after his poetical whinings over his own misfortune 
in murdering Duncan, he alleges his motives for killing the 
two sleeping attendants. Assuredly, too, the dramatist had 
his reasons for causing Macbeth's hypocritically pathetic de- 
scription of the scene of the murder to be thus publicly de- 
livered in the presence of her whose hands have had so 
large a share in giving it that particular aspect. It lends 
double force to this most characteristic trait of Macbeth's 
deportment, that he should not be moved even by his lady's 
presence from delivering his affectedly indignant description 
of that bloody spectacle, in terms which must so vividly re- 
call to her mind's eye the sickening objects which his own 
moral cowardice had compelled her to gaze upon. His 
words draw from Lady Macbeth the instant exclamation, 
"Help me hence, ho !" And shortly after she is carried 
out, still in a fainting state. . . . Even her indomitable reso- 
lution may well sink for the moment under a stroke so 
withering, for which, being totally unexpected, she came so 
utterly unprepared. It is remarkable that, upon her excla- 
mation of distress, Macduff, and shortly after Banquo, cries 
out, "Look to the lady;" but that we find not the smallest 
sign of attention paid to her situation by Macbeth himself, 
who, arguing from his own character to hers, mightr regard it 
merely as a dexterous feigning on her part. A character 
like this, we cannot too often repeat, is one of the most 
cowardly selfishness, and most remorseless treachery, which 
all its poetical excitability does but exasperate into the per- 
petration of more and more extravagant enormities. . . . 

"But in them nature's copy 's not eterne" has been inter- 
preted by some critics as a deliberate suggesting, on Lady 
Macbeth's part, of the murder of Banquo and his son. . . . 
The natural and unstrained meaning of the words is, at 
most, nothing more than this, that Banquo and his son are 



3< 



MACBETH. 



not immortal. It is not she, but her husband, that draws a 
practical inference from this harmless proposition. That 
"they are assailable" may be "comfort," indeed, to him; 
but it is evidently none to her, and he proceeds to tell her 
that " there shall be done A deed of dreadful note." Still 
provokingly unapprehensive of his meaning, she asks him 
anxiously, "What 's to be done.?" But he, after trying the 
ground so far, finding her utterly indisposed to concur in his 
present scheme, does not dare to communicate it to her in 
plain terms, lest she should chide the fears that prompt him 
to this new and gratuitous enormity, by virtue of the very 
same spirit that had made her combat those which had with- 
held him from the one great crime which she had deemed 
necessary to his elevation. It is only through a misappre- 
hension, which unjustly lowers the generosity of her charac- 
ter and unduly exalts that of her husband, that so many 
^critics have represented this passage (" Be innocent of the 
knowledge," etc.) as spoken by Macbeth out of a magnan- 
imous desire to spare his wife all guilty participation in an 
act which at the same time, they tell us, he believes will 
give her satisfaction. It is, in fact, but a new and signal in- 
stance of his moral cowardice. ... It is most important, in 
order to judge aright of Shakespeare's metaphysical, moral, 
and religious meaning in this great composition, that we 
should not mistake him as having represented that spirits 
of darkness are here permitted absolutely and gratuitously 
to seduce his hero from a state of perfectly innocent in- 
tention. It is plain that such an error at the outset vitiates 
and debases the moral to be drawn from the whole piece. 
Macbeth does not project the murder of Duncan because of 
his encounier with the weird sisters; the weird sisters en- 
counter him because he has projected the murder — because 
they know him better than his royal master does, who tells 
us, " There is no art to find the mind's construction in the 
face." But these ministers of evil are privileged to see " the 



INTRODUCTION. 31 

mind's construction" where human eye cannot penetrate- 
in the mind itself. They repair to the blasted heath be- 
cause, as one of them says afterwards of Macbeth, " some- 
thing wicked this way comes." In the next two lines — "I 
come, Graymalkin ! — Paddock calls"— we perceive the con- 
nection of these beings with the world invisible and inaudible 
to mortal senses. It is only through these mysterious an- 
swers of theirs that we know any thing of the other beings 
whom they name thus grotesquely, sufficiently indicating 
spirits of deformity akin to themselves, and like themselves 
rejoicing in that elemental disturbance into which they 
mingle as they vanish from our view. ... 

In V. 3. 22-28, we have mcxo. poetical whining over his own 
most merited situation. Yet Hazlitt, among others, talks of 
him as "calling back all our sympathy" by this reflection. 
Sympathy indeed ! for the exquisitely refined selfishness of 
this most odious personage ! This passage is exactly of a 
piece with that in which he envies the fate of his royal victim, 
and seems to think himself hardly used that Duncan, after 
all, should be better off than himself. Such exclamations, 
from such a character, are but an additional title to our de- 
testation; the man who sets at naught all human ties should 
at least be prepared to abide in quiet the inevitable conse- 
quences. But the moral cowardice of Macbeth is consum- 
mate. . . . 

■ There is no want of physical courage implied in Macbeth's 
declining the combat with Macduff. He may well believe 
that now, more than ever, it is time to " beware Macduff." 
He is at length convinced that "fate and metaphysical aid" 
are against him ; and, consistent to the last in his hardened 
and whining selfishness, no thought of the intense blackness 
of his own perfidy interferes to prevent him from complain- 
ing of falsehood in those evil beings from whose very nature 
he should have expected nothing else. There is no coward- 
ice, we say, in his declining the combat under such a con- 



32 MACBETH. 

viction. Neither is there any courage in his renewing it ; 
for there is no room for courage in opposing evident fate. 
But the last word and action of Macbeth are an expression 
of the moral cowardice which we trace so conspicuously 
throughout his career ; he surrenders his life that he may 
not be "baited with the rabble's curse." So dies Macbeth, 
shrinking from deserved opprobrium; but he dies, as he has 
lived, remorseless. . . . 

\^From Hunter's '■^New Ilhtstrations of Shakespeare.^'"^'\ 

Beside the main subject of the midnight murder of a king 
sleeping in the house of one of his nobles, and surrounded by 
his guards, the death and appearance of the ghost of Banquo, 
and the whole machinery and prophecy of the wayward sis- 
ters, with the interior view of a castle in which is a con- 
science-stricken monarch reduced to the extremity of a siege, 
the poet seems to have intended to concentrate in this play 
many of the more thrilling incidents of physical and meta- 
physical action. The midnight shriek of women ; sleep, with 
its stranger accidents, such as laughing, talking, walking, as 
produced by potions, as disturbed by dreams, as full of wicked 
thoughts ; the hard beating of the heart ; the parched state 
of the mouth in an hour of desperate guilt ; the rousing of 
the hair at a dismal treatise ; physiognomy ; men of manly 
hearts moved to tears ; the wild thoughts which haunt the 
mind of guilt, as in the air-drawn dagger, and the fancy that 
sleep was slain and the slayer should know its comforts no 
more ; death in some of its stranger varieties — the soldier 
dying of wounds not bound up, the spent swimmer, the l>iloi 
wrecked on his way /tome, the horrible mode of Macdonnel's 
death, the massacre of a mother and her children, the hired 
assassins perpetrating their work on the belated travellers — 
these are but a portion of the terrible circumstances attend- 
ant on the main events of this tragic tale. 

* JVew Illustrations of the Life, Studies, and Writings of Shakespeare^ 
by Joseph Hunter (London, 184s), vol. ii. p. 160. 



INTRODUCTION. 33 

He goes for similar circumstances to the elements, and to 
the habits of animals about which superstitions had gathered 
— the flitting of the bat, the flight of the crow to the rooky 
wood, the fights of the owl and the falcon, and of the owl 
and the wren, the scream of the owl, the chirping of the 
cricket, the croak of the prophetic raven, and bark of the 
wolf, the horses devouring one another; the pitchy darkness 
of night, the murky darkness of a lurid day, a storm rattling 
in the battlements of an ancient fortress — we have all this 
before we have passed the bounds of nature and entered the 
regions of metaphysical agency. 

There we have the spirits which tend on mortal thoughts, 
the revelations by magot-pies, the moving of stones, the 
speaking of trees, and lamen tings heard in the air, and al- 
most the whole of the mythology of the wayward sisters — 
their withered and wild attire, their intercourse with their 
queen, their congregating in the hour of storms on heaths 
which the lightning has scathed, the strange instruments em- 
ployed by them, the mode of their operations, and their com- 
pelling the world invisible to disclose the secrets of futurity. 

\_From BucknilVs " The Mad Folk of Shakespeare:'*^ 

Evidently Macbeth is a man of sanguine nervous tempera- 
ment, of large capacity and ready susceptibility. The high 
energy and courage which guide his sword in the battles of 
his country are qualities of nerve-force which future circum- 
stances will direct to good or evil purposes. Circumstances 
arise soliciting to evil ; " supernatural soliciting," the force 
of which, in these anti- spiritualist d^ys, it requires an al- 
most unattainable flight of the imagination to get a glimpse 
of It must be remembered that the drama brings Macbeth 
face to face with the supernatural. What would be the effect 
upon a man of nervous sensibility of such appearances as the 

* The Mad Folk of Shakespeare, by J. C. Bucknill, M. D. (London, 
1.867), PP- 7, 10, 44. 

c 



34 MACBETH. 

weird sisters? Surely most profound. We may disbelieve 
in any manifestations of the supernatural, but we cannot but 
believe that were their occurrence possible they would pro- 
foundly affect the mind. Humboldt says that the effect of 
the first earthquake shock is most bewildering, upsetting one 
of the strongest articles of material faith, namely, the fixed- 
ness of the earth. Any supernatural appearance must have 
this effect of shaking the foundations of the mind in an in- 
finitely greater degree. Indeed, we so fully feel that any 
glimpse into the spirit-world would efiect in ourselves a pro- 
found mental revulsion, that we readily extend to Macbeth 
a more indulgent opinion of his great crimes than we should 
have been able to do had he been led on to their commission 
by the temptations of earthly incident alone. . . . 

To the Christian moralist Macbeth's guilt is so dark that 
its degree cannot be estimated, as there are no shades in 
black. But to the mental physiologist to whom nerve rather 
than conscience, the function of the brain rather than the 
power of the will, is an object of study, it is impossible to 
omit from calculation the influences of the supernatural event, 
which is not only the starting-point of the action, but the 
remote cause of the mental phenomena. . . . 

What was Lady Macbeth's form and temperament.'' In 
Maclise's great painting of the banquet scene she is rep- 
resented as a woman of large and coarse development : a 
Scandinavian Amazon, the muscles of whose brawny arms 
could only have been developed to their great size by hard 
and frequent use ; a woman of whose fists her husband might 
well be afraid. . . . Was Lady Macbeth such a being ? Did 
the fierce fire of her soul animate the epicene bulk of a vi- 
rago? Never! Lady Macbeth was a lad}^, beautiful and 
delicate, whose one vivid passion proves that her organization 
was instinct with nerve-force, unoppressed by weight of flesh. 
Probably she was small ; for it is the smaller sort of women 
whose emotional fire is the most fierce, and she herself bears 



INTROD UCTION. 



35 



unconscious testimony to the fact that her hand was little. 
. . . Although she manifests no feeling towards Macbeth 
beyond the regard which ambition makes her yield, it is 
clear that he entertains for her the personal love which a 
beautiful woman would excite. . . . Moreover, the effect 
of remorse upon her own health proves the preponderance 
of nerve in her organization. Could the Lady Macbeth of 
Maclise, and of others who have painted this lady, have been 
capable of the fire and force of her character in the commis- 
sion of her crimes, the remembrance of them would scarcely 
have disturbed the quiet of her after-years. We figure Lady 
Macbeth to have been a tawny or brown blonde Rachel, 
with more beauty, with gray and cruel eyes, but with the 
same slight, dry configuration and constitution, instinct with 
determined nerve-power. 

Note by the Editor. — In a foot-note, Dr. Bucknill states that when 
he wrote the above he was not aware that Mrs. Siddons held a similar 
opinion as to Lady Macbeth's personal appearance. We append what 
Mrs. Siddons says on this subject in her " Remarks on the Character of 
Lady Macbeth :" 

" In this astonishing creature one sees a woman in whose bosom the 
passion of ambition has almost obliterated all the characteristics of 
human nature ; in whose composition are associated all the subjugating 
powers of intellect, and all the charms and graces of personal beauty. 
You will probably not agree with me as to the character of that beauty; 
yet, perhaps, this difference of opinion will be entirely attributable to the 
difficulty of your imagination disengaging itself from that idea of the per- 
son of her representative which you have been so long accustomed to 
contemplate. According to my notion, it is of that character which I 
believe is generally allowed to be most captivating to the other sex — 
fair, feminine, nay, perhaps, even fragile — 

' Fair as the forms that, wove in Fancy's loom, 
Float in light visions round the poet's head.' 

" Such a combination only, respectable in energy and strength of mind, 
and captivating in feminine loveliness, could have composed a charm of 
such potency as to fascinate the mind of a hero so dauntless, a character 
so amiable, so honourable as Macbeth — to seduce him to brave all the 
dangers of the present and all the terrors of a future world ; and we 



3^ 



MACBETH. 



are constrained, even whilst we abhor his crimes, to pity the infatuated 
victim of such a thraldom." 

Campbell, on the other hand, in his " Life of Mrs. Siddons," says of 
Lady Macbeth : " She is a splendid picture of evil, ... a sort of sister 
of Milton's Lucifer ; and, like him, we surely imagine her externally ma- 
jestic and beautiful. Mrs. Siddons's idea of her having been a delicate 
and blonde beauty seems to me to be a pure caprice. The public would 
have ill exchanged such a representative of Lady Macbeth for the dark 
Jocks and the eagle eyes of Mrs. Siddons.'^ 

Maginn {Shakespeaj-e Papers, i860, p. 184) remarks : " Shakespeare 
gives us no hint as to her personal charms, except when he makes her 
describe her hand as * little.' We may be sure that there were few ' more 
thoroughbred or fairer fingers ' in the land of Scotland than those of its 
queen, whose bearing in public towards Duncan, Banquo, and the no- 
bles is marked by elegance and inajesty ; and, in private, by affectionate 
anxiety for her sanguinary lord." 

Fletcher {Studies of Shakespeare, cited on p. 24) says : " [Shakespeare] 
has combined in Macbeth an eminently masculine person with a spirit 
in other respects eminently feminine, but utterly wanting the feminine 
generosity of affection. To this character, thus contrasted within itself, 
he has opposed a female character presenting a contrast exactly the 
reverse of the former. No one doubts that he has shown us in the 
spirit of Lady Macbeth that masculine firmness of will which he has 
made wanting in her husband. The strictest analogy, then, would lead 
him to complete the harmonizing contrast of the two characters by en- 
shrining this ' undaunted mettle ' of hers in a frame as exquisitely femi- 
nine as her husband's is magnificently manly. This was requisite, also, 
in order to make her taunts of Macbeth's irresolution operate with the 
fullest intensity. Such sentiments from the lips of what is called a mas- 
culine looking or speaking woman have little moral energy compared 
with what they derive from the ardent utterance of a delicately feminine 
voice and nature. Mrs. Siddons, then, we believe, judged more correctly 
in this matter than the public." 

The German critic Rotscher (translated by Mr. Furness in his edition 
oi Macbeth, p. 467) says: "There. are certain inferences to be drawn in 
regard to the personal appearance of Lady Macbeth. She enters read- 
ing her husband's letter containing the first announcement of the sayings 
of the weird sisters. The mighty passion of ambition bursts at once in 
Lady Macbeth's imagination into full flame by these few lines ; she ap- 
pears well-nigh intoxicated with that emotion ; her whole appearance 
ought to be royal, as one for whose powerful features and majestic bear- 
ing the diadem is the befitting adornment. Her countenance ought to 



INTR OD UC TION. 3 7 

display noble and energetic outlines, from whose every feature mean 
desires are banished ; it should presage demoniac forces, with never a 
trace of moral ugliness nor aught repellent. The glittering eye betrays 
the restless, busy ardor of the disposition, while the finely chiselled lips 
and the nostrils must eloquently express scorn of moral opposition, and 
a determined purpose in crime. Her queenly bearing, as well as the 
nobility of all her movements, proclaims her title to the highest earthly 
greatness and power. Lady Macbeth's looks ought to enchain, and yet, 
withal, chill us, for such features can awaken no human sympathy, and 
can only disclose the dominion of monstrous powei's. Lady Macbeth, 
therefore, will have the more powerful effect the more majesty is thrown 
around her person, because she will be thereby at once removed to a 
region in which all ordinary standards are dwarfed, for we have here 
before us a nature in which dwells a spirit made up of savage elements, 
and which reveals its own peculiar laws in its projects as fearfully as in its 
ruin." 

[Fro7n Gervinus's '■^Shakespeare Commentaries.^'' *'\ 

Lady Macbeth is more a dependent wife than an inde- 
pendent, masculine woman, in so far as she wishes the gold- 
en round rather for him than for herself; her whole am- 
bition is for him and through him ; of herself, and of eleva- 
tion for herself, she never speaks. . . . We see in this mar- 
riage a union of esteem, aye, of deep reverence, rather than 
of affection. The poet has not left this unexplained. She 
has had children, but has reared none; this may have added 
another sting to Macbeth's jealousy of Banquo ; but the 
most natural consequence is that the pair are drawn more 
closely together, and are more intent on the gratification 
each can afford the other. . . . When none of her golden ex- 
pectations are fulfilled — when, instead of successful great- 
ness, the ruin of the land and of her husband follows — then 
her powers suddenly collapse. Trusting in him, she could 
have endured forever the conflicts of conscience, of nature, 
and of a harrowing imagination, but, doubting him, she 
doubts herself also; like ivy, she had twined her fresh verd- 

* Translated by Mr. Furness (see his ed. of Macbeth, p. 469) from the 
3d German ed. (Leipzig, 1862). 



3$ MACBETH, 

ure around the branches of the kingly tree, but when the 
trunk totters, she falls to the ground; her iron heart dis- 
solves in the fire of this affliction and of this false expec- 
tation. There have been regrets expressed that the tran- 
sition in her from masculine strength to feminine weak- 
ness has not been more fully portrayed by the poet. It was, 
however, no gradual transition, but a sudden downfall. . . . 

It is very noteworthy that for the murder of Banquo 
Macbeth employs the very incitements which had wrought 
most effectually upon himself: he appeals to the manhood 
of the murderers. . . . 

As far as regards poetic justice in the fates of Duncan, 
Banquo, and Macduff, there lies in their several natures a 
contrast to Macbeth's. . . . King Duncan is characterized in 
history as a man of greater weakness than became a king; 
rebellions were frequent in his reign ; he was no warrior to 
suppress them, no physiognomist to read treason in the face; 
after he had just passed through a painful experience through 
the treachery of the friendly thane of Cawdor, he at once, 
overlooking the modest Banquo, elevates Macbeth to this 
very thaneship, thereby pampering Macbeth's ambition, and 
suffers a cruel penalty for this blunder at the hands of the 
new thane, his own kinsman. The same lack of foresight 
ruins Banquo. He had been admitted to the secret of the 
weird sisters ; pledged to openness towards Macbeth, he had 
an opportunity of convincing himself of his obduracy and 
secrecy; he surmises and suspects Macbeth's deed, yet he 
does nothing against him and nothing for himself; like, but 
with a difference, those cowardly impersonations of fear, the 
Doctor, Seyton, Ross, and the spying ironical Lennox, he 
suppresses his thoughts and wilfully shuts his eyes ; he falls, 
having done nothing in a field full of dangers. Macduff is 
not quite so culpable in this respect ; he is, therefore, punish- 
ed, not in his own person, but in the fate of his family, which 
makes him the martyr-hero by whose hand Macbeth falls. . . 



INTRO D UCTION. 



39 



Macduff is, by nature, what Macbeth once was, a mixture of 
mildness and force ; he is more than Macbeth, because he is 
without any admixture of ambition. When Malcolm accuses 
himself to Macduff of every imaginable vice, not a shadow 
of ambition to force himself into the usurper's place comes 
over Macduff. So noble, so blameless, so mild, Macduff 
lacks the goad of sharp ambition necessary to make him a 
victorious opponent of Macbeth : the poet, therefore, by the 
horrible extermination of his family, drains him of the milk 
of human kindness, and so fits him to be the conqueror of 
Macbeth. 

\^From Dowden^s '' S^n^sJ>ere." *] 

There is a line in the play of Macbeth, uttered as the 
evening shadows begin to gather on the day of Banquo's 
murder, which we may repeat to ourselves as a motto of the 
entire tragedy, " Good things of day begin to droop and 
drowse." It is the tragedy of the twilight and the setting- 
in of thick darkness upon a human soul. We assist at the 
spectacle of a terrible sunset in folded clouds of blood. To 
the last, however, one thin hand's -breadth of melancholy 
light remains — the sadness of the day without its strength. 
Macbeth is the prey of a profound world-weariness. And 
while a huge enma pursues crime, the criminal is not yet in 
utter blackness of night. When the play opens, the sun is 
already dropping below the verge. And as at sunset strange 
winds arise, and gather the clouds to westward with mysteri- 
ous pause and stir, so the play of Macbeth opens with move- 
ment of mysterious, spiritual powers, which are auxiliary of 
that awful shadow which first creeps and then strides across 
the moral horizon. 

It need hardly be once more repeated that the Witches of 
Macbeth are not the broom-stick witches of vulgar, popular 

* Shakspere : a Critical Study of his Mind and Art, by Edward Dowden 
(2d ed. London, 1876), p. 244 fol. (by permission). 



40 



MACBETH. 



tradition. If they are grotesque, they are also sublime. The 
weird sisters of our dramatist may take their place beside 
the terrible old women of Michael Angelo, who spin the 
destinies of man. . . . They tingle in every fibre with evil 
energy, as the tempest does with the electric current; their 
malignity is inexhaustible; they are wells of sin springing up 
into everlasting death; they have their raptures and ecstasies 
in crime; they snatch with delight at the relics of impiety 
and foul disease; they are the awful inspirers of murder, in- 
sanity, suicide. . . . 

" The true reason for the first appearance of the witches," 
Coleridge has said, "is to strike the key-note of the character 
of the whole drama." They appear in a desert place, with 
thunder and lightning; it is the barren and blasted place 
where evil has obtained the mastery of things. Observe that 
the last words of the witches, in the opening scene of the 
play, are the first words which Macbeth himself utters. 

Fair is foul and foul is fair 

Hover through the fog and filthy air.* 

Macbeth. "So foul and fair a day I have not seen," 
Shakspere intimates by this that although Macbeth has not 
yet set eyes upon these hags, the connection is already es- 
tablished between his soul and them. Their spells have al- 
ready wrought upon his blood. When the three sisters meet 
Macbeth and Banquo upon the heath, it is Banquo to whom 
they are first visible in the gray, northern air. To Banquo 
they are objective — they are outside himself, and he can ob- 
serve and describe their strange aspect, their wild attire, and 
their mysterious gesture. Macbeth is rapt in silence, and 
then with eager longing demands, " Speak if you can : what 
are you ?" When they have given him the three Hails, as 
Glamis, as Cawdor, and as King, the hail of tbe past, of the 

* Words uttered by all three witches, after each has singly spoken 
thrice. 



INTRODUCTION. 41 

present, of the future, Macbeth starts. " It is a full revela- 
tion of his criminal aptitudes," Mr. Hudson has well said, 
"that so startles and surprises him into a rapture of medita- 
tion." And besides this, Macbeth is startled to find that 
there is a terrible correspondence established between the 
baser instincts of his own heart and certain awful external 
agencies of evil. . . . 

But beside the vague yet mastering inspiration of crime 
received from the witches, there is the more definite inspira- 
tion received from his wife. Macbeth is excitably imagina- 
tive, and his imagination alternately stimulates and enfeebles 
him. The facts in their clear-cut outline disappear in the 
dim atmosphere of surmise, desire, fear, hope, which the 
spirit of Macbeth effuses around the fact. But his wife sees 
things in the clearest and most definite outline. Her deli- 
cate frame is filled with high-strung nervous energy. With 
her to perceive is forthwith to decide, to decide is to act. 
Having resolved upon her end, a practical logic convinces 
her that the means are implied and determined. Macbeth 
resolves, and falters back from action ; now he is restrained 
by his imagination, now by his fears, now by lingering vellei- 
ties towards aloval and honourable existence. He is unable 
to keep in check or put under restraint any one of the vari- 
ous incoherent powers of his nature, which impede and em- 
barrass each the action of the other. Lady Macbeth gains, 
for the time, sufficient strength by throwing herself passion- 
ately into a single purpose, and by resolutely repressing all 
that is inconsistent with that purpose. Into the service of 
evil she carries some of the intensity and energy of ascet- 
icism — she cuts off from herself her better nature, she yields 
no weak paltering with conscience. " I have given suck," 
she exclaims, " and know how tender 'tis to love the babe 
that milks me;" she is unable to stab Duncan because he 
resembles her father in his sleep; she is appalled by the 
copious blood in which the old man lies, and the horror of 



42 



MACBETH. 



the sight clings to her memory; the smell of the blood is 
hateful to her and almost insupportable ; she had not been 
without apprehension that her feminine nature might fail to 
carry her through the terrible ordeal, through which she yet 
resolved that it should be compelled to pass. She must not 
waste an atom of her strength of will, which has to serve for 
two murderers — for her husband as well as for herself She 
puts into requisition with the aid of wine and of stimulant 
words the reserve of nervous force which lay unused. No 
witches have given her " Hail ;" no airy dagger marshals her 
the way she is going; nor is she afterwards haunted by the 
terrible vision of Banquo's gory head. As long as her will 
remains her own she can throw herself upon external facts, 
and maintain herself in relation with the definite, actual sur- 
roundings; it is in her sleep, when the will is incapable of 
action, that she is persecuted by the past which perpetually 
renews itself, not in ghostly shapes, but by the imagined re- 
currence of real and terrible incidents. 

The fears of Lady Macbeth upon the night of Duncan's 
murder are the definite ones that the murderers may be de- 
tected, that some omission in the pre-arranged plan may oc- 
cur, that she or her husband may be summoned to appear 
before the traces of their crime have been removed. More 
awful considerations would press in upon her and overwhelm 
her sanity, but that she forcibly repels them for the time : 

These deeds must not be thought 
After these ways ; so, it will make us mad. 

To her the sight of Duncan dead is as terrible as to Macbeth; 
but she takes the daggers from her husband; and with a 
forced jest, hideous in the self-violence which it implies, she 
steps forth into the dark corridor : 

If he do bleed 
I'll gild the faces of the grooms withal, 
For it must seem their guilt. 



INTRODUCTION. 43 

"A play of fancy here is like a gleam of ghastly sunshine 
striking across a stormy landscape."* The knocking at the 
gate clashes upon her overstrained nerves and thrills herj 
but she has determination and energy to direct the actions 
of Macbeth, and rouse him from the mood of abject de- 
pression which succeeded his crime. A white flame of reso- 
lution glows through her delicate organization, like light 

through an alabaster lamp : 

Infirm of purpose ! 
Give me the daggers ; the sleeping and the dead 
Are but as pictures : 'tis the eye of childhood 
That fears a painted devil. 

If the hold which she possesses over her own faculties should 
relax for a moment, all would be lost. For dreadful deeds 
anticipated and resolved upon, she has strength, but the sur- 
prise of a novel horror, on which she has not counted, de- 
prives her suddenly of consciousness ; when Macbeth an- 
nounces his butchery of Duncan's grooms, the lady swoons — 
not in feigning but in fact — and is borne away insensible. 
Macbeth wastes himself in vague, imaginative remorse : 

Will not great Neptune's ocean wash this blood 
Clean from my hand ? No, this my hand will rather 
The multitudinous seas incarnadine. 
Making the green one red. 

Thus his imagination serves to dissipate the impression of 
his conscience. What is the worth of this vague, imagina- 
tive remorse ? Macbeth retained enough of goodness to 
make him a haggard, miserable criminal; never enough to 
restrain him from a crime. His hand soon became subdued 
to what it worked in — the blood in which it paddled and 
plashed. And yet the loose, incoherent faculties, ever be- 
coming more and more disorganized and disintegrated, some- 
how held together till the end. "My hands are of your col- 
our," exclaims Lady Macbeth ; " but I shame to wear a heart 
* Macbeth, Clarendon Press Edition, p. 108- 



44 



MACBETH. 



SO white. A little water clears us of this deed." Yet it is 
she who has uttered no large words about " the multitudi- 
nous seas" who will rise in slumbery agitation, and with her 
accustomed action eagerly essay to remove from her little 
hand its ineffaceable stain, and with her delicate sense sick- 
en at the smell of blood upon it, which " all the perfumes of 
Arabia will not sweeten ;" and last, will loosen the terrible 
constriction of her heart with a sigh that longs to be perpet- 
ual. * It is the queen, and not her husband, who is slain by 
conscience. 

Yet the soul of Macbeth never quite disappears into the 
blackness of darkness. He is a cloud without water carried 
about of winds ; a tree whose fruit withers, but not even to 
the last plucked up by the roots. For the dull ferocity of 
Macbeth is joyless. All his life has gone irretrievably 
astray, and he is aware of this. His suspicion becomes un- 
controllable ; his reign is a reign of terror; and as he drops 
deeper and deeper into the solitude and the gloom, his sense 
of error and misfortune, futile and unproductive as that sense 
is, increases. He lives under a dreary cloud, and all things 
look gray and cold. He has lived long enough, yet he clings 
to life; that which should accompany old age, "as honour, 
love, obedience, troops of friends," he may not look to have. 
Finally his sensibility has grown so dull that even the intel- 
ligence of his wife's death — the death of her who had been 
bound to him by such close communion in crime — hardly 
moves him, and seems little more than one additional inci- 
dent in the weary, meaningless tale of human life : 

She should have died hereafter ; 
There would have been a time for such a word. 
To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow, 
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day 
To the last syllable of recorded time ; 
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools 
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle ! 
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player 



INTRODUCTION. 4^ 

That struts and frets his hour upon the stage, 
And then is heard no more ; it is a tale 
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, 
Signifying nothing. 

This world-weariness, which has not the energy of Timon's 
despair, is yet less remote from the joy and glory of true liv- 
ing than is the worm-like vivacity of lago. Macbeth re- 
members that he once knew there was such a thing as human 
goodness. He stands a haggard shadow against the hand's- 
breadth of pale sky which yields us sufficient light to see 
him. But lago rises compact with fiend-like energy, seen 
brightly in the godless glare of hell. The end of Macbeth 
is savage, and almost brutal — a death without honour or 
loveliness. He fights now, not like " Bellona's bridegroom 
lapp'd in proof," but with a wild and animal clinging to life : 

They have tied me to a stake ; I cannot fly. 
But, bear-like, I must fight the course. 

His followers desert him; he feels himself taken in a trap. 
The powers of evil in which he had trusted turn against him 
and betray him. His courage becomes a desperate rage. 
We are in pain until the horrible necessity is accomplished. 




M A C B E T 



DRAMATIS PERSONS. 



Duncan, King of Scotland. 

Malcolm, ) , . 

^ ' \ his sons. 

DONALBAIN, ) 

Macbeth, ) i r ..i i • > 

/■ generals of the king's army. 

~1 



)■ noblemen of Scotland. 



Banquo, 

Macduff, 

Lennox, 

Ross, 

Menteith, 

Angus, ( 

Caithness, J 

Fleance, son to Banquo. 

SiWARD, Earl of Northumberland, general 

of the English forces. 
Young SiwARU, his son. 
Seyton, an ofHcer attending on Macbeth. 



Boy, son to Macduff. 

An English Doctor. 

A Scotch Doctor. 

A Sergeant. 

A Porter. 

An Old Man. . 

Lady Macbeth. 

Lady Macduff. 

Gentlewoman attending on Lady Macbeth. 

Hecate. 

Three Witches. 

Apparitions. 

Lords, Gentlemen, OfHcers, Soldiers, Mur- 
derers, Attendants, and Messengers. 

Scene : Scotland; England. 




CAWDOR CASTLE. 



ACT I. 

Scene I. A Desert Place. 
Thunder and lightning. Efiter three Witches. 

First Witch. When shall we three meet again 
In thunder, lightning, or in rain ? 

Second Witch. When the hurly-burly 's done, 
When the battle 's lost and won. 

D 



go MACBETH. 

Third Witch. That will be ere the set of sun. 

First Witch. Where the place ? 

Second Witch. Upon the heath. 

Third Witch. There to meet with Macbeth. 

First Witch. I come, Graymalkin ! 

Second Witch. Paddock calls. 

Third Witch. Anon. 

All. Fair is foul, and foul is fair : ^^ 



« • 



Hover through the fog and filthy air. '^ \Exeunt. 

Scene II. A Camp near Forres. 

Alarum within. Enter Duncan, Malcolm, Donalbain, 
Lennox, with Attendants, meeti?ig a bleeding Sergeant. 

Duncaii. What bloody man is that ? He can report, f-.-;^ 

As seemeth by his plight, of the revolt 
The newest state. , \ 

Malcolm. This is the sergeant 

Who like a good and hardy soldier fought 
'Gainst my captivity. — Hail, brave friend ! 
Say to the king the knowledge of the broil 
As thou didst leave it. 

Sergeant. Doubtful it stood. 

As two spent swimmers that do cling together 
And choke their art. The merciless Macdonwald- 
Worthy to be a rebel, for to that »c 

The multiplying villanies of nature 
Do swarm upon him — from the western isles 
Of kerns and gallowglasses is supplied ; 
And Fortune, on his damned quarrel smiling, 
Show'd like a rebel's whore : but all 's too weak ; 
For brave Macbeth — well he deserves that name — 
Disdaining Fortune, with his brandish'd steel, 
Which smok'd with bloody execution. 
Like valour's minion carv'd out his passage 



ACT I. SCENE II. 



51 



Till he fac'd the slave ; 20 

Which ne'er shook hands, nor bade farewell to him, 
Till he unseam'd him from the nave to the chaps, 
And fix'd his head upon our battlements. 

Duncan. O valiant cousin ! worthy gentleman ! 

Sergeant. As whence the sun gins his reflection 
Shipwracking storms and direful thunders break, 
So from that spring whence comfort seem'd to come 
Discomfort swells. Mark, king of Scotland, mark : 
No sooner justice had with valour arm'd 
Compell'd these skipping kerns to trust their heels, 30 

But the Norweyan lord, surveying vantage. 
With furbish'd arms and new supplies of men 
Began a fresh assault. 

Duncan. Dismay'd not this 

Our captains, Macbeth and Banquo .'' 

Sergeant. Yes j 

As sparrows eagles, or the hare the lion. 
If I say sooth, I must report they were 
As cannons overcharg'd with double cracks ; 
So they doubly redoubled strokes upon the foe : 
Except they meant to bathe in reeking wounds, 
•f- Or memorize another Golgotha, Z-^ 40 

I cannot tell — 
But I am faint, my gashes cry for help. 

Duncan. So well thy words become thee as thy wounds ; 
They smack of honour both. — Go get him surgeons. 

\_Exit Sergeant, attended. 
Who comes here ? 

Enter Ross. 

Malcolm. The worthy thane of Ross. 

Lennox. What a haste looks through his eyes ! So should 
he look 
That seems to speak things strange. 



52 



MACBETH. 



Ross. God save the king ! 

Duncan. Whence cam'st thou, worthy thane ? 

Ross. From Fife, great king ; 

Where the Norweyan banners flout the sky 
And fan our people cold. Norway himself, so 

With terrible numbers, 
Assisted by that most disloyal traitor. 
The thane of Cawdor, began a dismal conflict ; 
• Till that Bellona's bridegroom, lapp'd in proof. 
Confronted him with self-comparisons. 
Point against point rebellious, arm 'gainst arm, 
Curbing his lavish spirit : and, to conclude, 
The victory fell on us. 

Duncan. Great happiness ! 

Ross. That now 

Sweno, the Norways' king, craves composition ; 
Nor would we deign him burial of his men 60 

Till he disbursed at Saint Colme's Inch 
Ten thousand dollars to our general use. 

Duncan. No more that thane of Cawdor shall deceive 

Our bosom interest : go pronounce his present death, 

And with his former title greet Macbeth. 

Ross. I '11 see it done. 

v. 
Duncan. What he hath lost noble Macbeth hath won. 

[Exeunt. 

Scene III. A Heath. 
Thunder. Enter the three Witches. 

First Witch. Where hast thou been, sister ? 
Second Witch. Killing swine. 
Third Witch. Sister, where thou ? 
First Witch. A sailor's wife had chestnuts in her lap. 
And munch'd, and munch'd, and munch'd. * Give me' 
quoth I : 



ACT I. SCENE III. 53 

^Aroint thee, witch !' the rump-fed ronyon cries. 
%Her husband 's to Ale^oygone, master o'the Tiger: 
But in a sieve I '11 thither sail, 
And, like a rat without a tail, 
I '11 do, I '11 do, and I '11 do. lo 

Second Witch. I '11 give thee a wind. 

First Witch. Thou 'rt kind. 

Third Witch. And I another. 

Fi7'st Witch. I myself have all the other, 
And the very ports they blow, 
All the quarters that they know 
I' the shipman's card. 
I '11 drain him dry as hay : 
Sleep shall neither night nor day 

Hang upon his pent-house lid ; 20 

He shall live a man forbid : 
Weary se'nnights nine times nine 
Shall he dwindle, peak, and pine : 
Though his bark cannot be lost, 
Yet it shall be tempest-tost. 
Look what I have. 

Second Witch. Show me, show me. 

First Witch. Here I have a pilot's thumb, 
Wrack'd as homeward he did come. {Drum within. 

Thifd Witch. A drum, a drum ! 30 

Macbeth doth come. 

All. The weird sisters, hand in hand, 
Posters of the sea and land. 
Thus do go about, about : 
Thrice to thine, and thrice to mine, 
And thrice again, to make up nine. 
Peace ! the charm 's wound up. 



54 



MACBETH. 



Enter Macbeth and Banquo. 

Macbeth. So foul and fair a day I have not seen. 

Banquo. How far is 't call'd to Forres ? What are these 
So wither'd and so wild in their attire, 40 

That look not like the inhabitants o' the earth, 
And yet are on 't ? — Live you ? or are you aught 
That man may question ? You seem to understand me, 
By each at once her choppy finger laying 
Upon her skinny lips : you should be women, 
And yet your beards forbid me to interpret 
That you are so. 

Macbeth. Speak, if you can : what are you ? 

First Witch. All hail, Macbeth ! hail to thee, thane of 
Glamis ! 

Second Witch. All hail, Macbeth ! hail to thee, thane of 
Cawdor ! 

Third Witch. All hail, Macbeth, that shalt be king here- 
after ! 50 

Banquo. Good sir, why do you start, and seem to fear 
Things that do sound so fair? — I' the name of truth, 
Are ye fantastical, or that indeed 
Which outwardly ye show ? My noble partner 
You greet with present grace and great prediction 
Of noble having and of royal hope, 
That he seems rapt withal; to me you speak not. 
If you can look into the seeds of time. 
And say which grain will grow and which will not, 
Speak then to me, who neither beg nor fear &o 

Your favours nor your hate. 

First Witch. Hail ! 

Second Witch. Hail ! 

Third Witch. Hail ! 

First Witch. Lesser than Macbeth, and greater. 

Second Witch. Not so happy, yet much happier. 



ACT I. SCENE III. 55 

Third Witch. Thou shalt get kings, though thou be none ; 
So all hail, Macbeth and Banquo ! 

First Witch. Banquo and Macbeth, all hail ! 

Macbeth. Stay, you imperfect speakers, tell me more : 70 
By Sinel's death I know I am thane of Glamis ; 
But how of Cawdor ? the thane of Cawdor lives, 
A prosperous gentleman ; and to be king 
Stands not within the prospect of belief. 
No more than to be Cawdor. Say from whence 
You owe this strange intelligence ? or why 
Upon this blasted heath you stop our way 
With such prophetic greeting ? speak, I charge you. 

[ Witches vanish. 

Banquo. The earth hath bubbles as the water has, 
And these are of them. Whither are they vanish'd ? 80 

Macbeth. Into the air; and what seem'd corporal melted 
As breath into the wind. Would they had stay'd ! 

Banquo. Were such things here as we do speak about ? 
Or have we eaten on. the insane root 
That takes the reason prisoner ? 

Macbeth. Your children shall be kings. 

Banquo. You shall be king. 

Macbeth. And thane of Cawdor too : went it not so.'' 

Banquo. To the selfsame tune and words. Who 's here? 

Enter Ross and Angus. 

Ross. The king hath happily receiv'd, Macbeth, 
The news of thy success ; and when he reads 90 

Thy personal venture in the rebels' fight, 
His wonders and his praises do contend 
Which should be thine or his : silenc'd with that, 
In viewing o'er the rest o' the selfsame day. 
He finds thee in the stout Norweyan ranks, 
Nothing afeard of what thyself didst make. 
Strange images of death. As thick as tale 



56 MACBETH. 

Came post with post, and every one did bear 
Thy praises in his kingdom's great defence, 
And pour'd them down before him. 

Angus. We are sent wo 

To give thee from our royal master thanks ; 
Only to herald thee into his sight, 
Not pay thee. 

Ross. And for an earnest of a greater honour, 
He bade me, from him, call thee thane of Cawdor : 
In which addition, hail, most worthy thane ! 
For it is thine. 
^ Banquo. What, can the devil speak true ?/ P'kM-hJ^ 

Macbeth. The thane of Cawdor lives : why do you dress me 
In borrow'd robes? 

Angus. Who was the thane lives yet. 

But under heavy judgment bears that life no 

Which he deserves to lose. Whether he was combin'd 
With those of Norway, or did line the rebel 
With hidden help and vantage, or that with both 
He labour'd in his country's wrack, I know not ; 
But treasons capital, confess'd and prov'd. 
Have overthrown him. 

Macbeth. [Aside] Glamis, and thane of Cawdor ! 

The greatest is behind. — Thanks for your pains. — 
Do you not hope your children shall be kings, 
When those that gave the thane of Cawdor to me 
Promis'd no less to them ? 

Banquo. That trusted home "o 

Might yet enkindle you unto the crown, 
Besides the thane of Cawdor. But 't is strange : 
And oftentimes, to win us to our harm. 
The instruments of darkness tell us truths, 
Win us with honest trifles, to betray 's 
In deepest consequence. — 
Cousins, a word, I pray you, 



ACT L SCENE HI. 57 

Macbeth. [Aside] Two truths are told, 

As happy prologues to the swelling act 
Of the imperial theme. — I thank you, gentlemen. 
[Aside] This supernatural soliciting , 130 

Cannot be ill, cannot be good : if ill, 
Why hath it given me earnest of success, 
Commencing in a truth? I am thane of Cawdor : 
*If good, why do I yield to that suggestion .p 
Whose horrid image doth unfix my hair ''-^•^- n 
And make my seated heart knock at my ribs, 
Against the use of nature ? Present fears .; ;. 
Are less than horrible imaginings : 
My thought, whose murther yet is but fantastical, 
Shakes so my single state of man that function mo 

Is smother'd in surmise, and nothing is 
But what is not. 

Banquo. Look how our partner 's rapt. 

Macbeth. [Aside] If chance will have me king, why, chance 
may crown me, 
Without my stir. 

Banquo. New honours come upon him, 

Like our strange garments, cleave not to their mould 
But with the aid of use. 

Macbeth. [Aside] Come what come may, 

Time and the hour runs through the roughest day. 

Baitqiio. Worthy Macbeth, w^e stay upon your leisure. 

Macbeth. Give me your favour : my dull brain was wrought 
With things forgotten. Kind gentlemen, your pains 150 

Are register 'd where every day I turn 
The leaf to read them. Let us toward the king. — 
Think upon what hath chanc'd, and at more time. 
The interim having weigh'd it, let us speak 
Our free hearts each to other. 

Banquo. Very gladly. 

Macbeth. Till then, enough. — Come, friends. [Exeunt, 



58 MACBETH, 



Scene IV. Forres. The Palace. 

Flourish. Enter Duncan, Malcolm, Donalbain, Lennox, 

and Attendants. 

Duncan. Is execution done on Cawdor? Are not 
Those in commission yet return'd 1 

Malcolm. My liege, 

They are not yet come back. But I have spoke 
With one that saw him die, who did report 
That very frankly he confess'd his treasons, 
Implor'd your highness' pardon, and set forth ^ 
A deep repentance : nothing in his life 
Became him like the leaving it ; he died 
As one that had been studied in his death 
To throw away the dearest thing he owed 
As 't were a careless trifle. 

Duncan. There 's no art 

To find the mind's construction in the face : 
He was a gentleman on whom I built 
An absolute trust. — 

Enter Macbeth, Banquo, Ross, and Angus. 

O worthiest cousin ! 
The sin of my ingratitude even now 
Was heavy on me : thou art so far before 
That swiftest wing of recompense is slow 
To overtake thee. Would thou hadst less deserv'd, 
That the proportion both of thanks and payment 
Might have been mine ! only I have left to say, 
More is thy due than more than all can pay. 

Macbeth. The service and the loyalty I owe> 
In doing it, pays itself ( Your highness' part 
Is to receive our duties : and our duties 
Are to your throne and state children and servants ; 



ACT I. SCENE IV. 



59 



Which do but what they should, by doing every thing 
Safe toward your love and honour. 

Duncan. Welcome hither : 

I have begun to plant thee, and will labour 
To make thee full of growing. — Noble Banquo, 
That hast no less deserv'd, nor must be known 3c 

No less to have done so, let me infold thee 
And hold thee to my heart. 

Banquo. There if I grow, 

The harvest is your own. 

Duncan. My plenteous joys, 

Wanton in fulness, seek to hide themselves 
In drops of sorrow. — Sons, kinsmen, thanes. 
And you whose places are the nearest, know 
We will establish our estate upon 
Our eldest, Malcolm, whom we name hereafter 
The Prince of Cumberland ; which honour must 
Not unaccompanied invest him only, 40 

But signs of nobleness, like stars, shall shine 
On all deservers. — From hence to Inverness, 
And bind us further to you. 

Macbeth. The rest is labour, which is not us'd {or you. 
I '11 be myself the harbinger and make joyful ->^ / 
The hearing of my wife with your approach ; 
So humbly take my leave. 

Duncan. My worthy Cawdor ! 

Macbeth. {Asidel The Prince of Cumberland ! that is a step 
On which I must fall down, or else o'erleap, 
For in my way it lies. Stars, hide your fires ! 50 

Let not light see my black and deep desires : 
The eye wink at the hand; yet let that be 
AVhich the eye fears, when it is done, to see. i v \Exit. 

Duncan. True, worthy Banquo : he is full so valiant, 
And in his commendations I am fed; 
It is a banquet to me. Let 's after him. 



6o MACBETH. 

Whose care is gone before to bid us welcome : 

It is a peerless kinsman. [Flourish. Exeunt. 



Scene V. Inverness. A Room in Macbeth' s Castle. 

Enter Lady Macbeth, reading a letter. 

Lady Macbeth [Reads]. They met me in the day of success', 
and I have learned by the perfectest report^ they have more in 
them than mortal knowledge. When I burned in desire to 
question them further, they made themselves air, into which they 
vanished. Whiles I stood rapt in the wonder of it, came mis- 
sives frofn the king, zuho all-hailed me ' Thane of Cawdor /' by 
which title, before, these weird sisters saluted me, and 7'ef erred 
me to the coming on of time, with ' Hail, king that shall be P 
This have I thought good to deliver thee, my dearest partner of 
greatness, that thou mightst ?tot lose the dues of rejoicing, by 
beifig ignoj-ant of what great?tess is promised thee. Lay it to 
thy heart, and farewell. 

Glamis thou art, and Cawdor, and shalt be ^3 

What thou art promis'd. Yet do I fear thy nature; 
It is too full o' the milk of human kindness 
To catch the nearest way. Thou wouldst be great ; 
Art not without ambition, but without 
The illness should attend it : what thou wouldst highly. 
That wouldst thou holily; wouldst not play false. 
And yet wouldst wrongly win : thou 'dst have, great Glamis, 
That which cries, ' Thus thou must do, if thou have it ;' 21 
And that which rather thou dost fear to do 
Than wishest should be undone. Hie thee hither. 
That I may pour my spirits in thine ear, 
And chastise with the valour of my tongue 
All that impedes thee from the golden round 
Which fate and metaphysical aid doth seem 
To have thee crown'd withal. 



ACT I. SCENE V. 6 1 

Enter a Messenger. 

What is your tidings ? 

Messenger. The king comes here to-night. 

Lady Macbeth. Thou 'rt mad to say it : 

Is not thy master with him ? who, were 't so, 30 

Would have inform'd for preparation. 

Messenger. So please you, it is true : our thane is coming. 
One of my fellows had the speed of him. 
Who, almost dead for breath, had scarcely more 
Than would make up his message. 

Lady Macbeth. Give him tending; 

He brings great news. \^Exit Messenger, 

The raven himself is hoarse 
That croaks the fatal entrance of Duncan 
Under my battlements. Come, you spirits 
That tend on mortal thoughts, unsex me here, 
And fill me from the crown to the toe top-full 40 

Of direst cruelty ! make thick my blood ; 
Stop up the access and passage to remorse. 
That no compunctious visitings of nature 
Shake my fell purpose, nor keep peace between 
The effect and it ! Come to my woman's breasts, 
And take my milk for gall, you murthering ministers, 
Wherever in your sightless substances 
You wait on nature's mischief! Come, thick night, 
And pall thee in the dunnest smoke of hell, 
That my keen knife see not the wound it makes, 50 

Nor heaven peep through the blanket of the dark, 
To cry ' Hold, hold !' 

Enter Macbeth. 

Great Glamis ! worthy Cawdor! 
Greater than both, by the all-hail hereafter ! 
Thy letters have transported me beyond 



62 MACBETH. 

This ignorant present, and I feel now 
The future in the instant. 

Macbeth. My dearest love, 

Duncan comes here to-night. 

Lady Macbeth. And when goes hence? 

Macbeth. To-morrow, as he purposes. 

Lady Macbeth. ^ O, never 

Shall sun that morrow see ! 

Your face, my thane, is as a book where men 60 

May read strange matters. To beguile the time, 
Look like the time ; bear welcome in your eye, 
Your hand, your tongue : look like the innocent flower, 
But be the serpent under 't. He that 's coming 
Must be provided for : and you shall put 
This night's great business into my dispatch ; 
Which shall to all our nights and days to come 
Give solely sovereign sway and masterdom. 

Macbeth. We will speak further. 

Lady Macbeth. Only look up clear ; 

To alter favour ever is to fear : 70 

Leave all the rest to me. \Exeunt. 

Scene VI. Before Macbeth' s Castle. 
Hautboys and torches. Enter Duncan, Malcolm, Donal- 
BAiN, Banquo, Lennox, Macduff, Ross, Angus, ana 
Attendants. 

Duncan. This castle hath a pleasant seat ; the air 
Nimbly and sweetly recommends itself • 
Unto our gentle senses. 

Banquo. This guest of summer, ^-^ 

The temple-haunting martlet, does approve 
By his lov'd mansionry that the heaven's breath 
Smells wooingly here : no jutty, frieze. 
Buttress, nor coign of vantage, but this bird 



ACT I. SCENE VI. 63 

Hath made his pendent bed and procreant cradle : 
Where they most breed and haunt, I have observed 
The air is dehcate. 

Enter Lady Macbeth. 

Duncan. See, see, our honour'd hostess! 10 

The love that follows us sometime is our trouble, 
Which still we thank as love. Herein I teach you 
How you shall bid God 'ield us for your pains 
And thank us for your trouble. 

Lady Macbeth. All our service 

In every point twice done and then done double 
Were poor and single business, to contend 
Against those honours deep and broad wherewith 
Your majesty loads our house : for those of old, 
And the late dignities heap'd up to them, 
We rest your hermits. 

Duncan. Where 's the thane of Cawdor? 20 

We cours'd him at the heels, and had a purpose 
To be his purveyor ; but he rides well. 
And his great love, sharp as his spur, hath holp him 
To his home before us. Fair and noble hostess, 
We are your guest to-night. 

Lady Macbeth. Your servants ever 

Have theirs, themselves, and what is theirs, in compt, 
To make their audit at your highness' pleasure, 
Still to return your own. 

Duncan. Give me your hand ; 

Conduct me to mine host : we love him highly, 
And shall continue our graces towards him. 30 

By your leave, hostess. \Exeunt. 



64 MACBETH. 

Scene VII. Macbeth's Castle. 

Hautboys and torches. Enter a Sewer, and divers Servants 
with dishes and service^ and pass over the stage. Then enter 
Macbeth. 

Macbeth. If it were done when 't is done, then 't were well i-^ 
It were done quickly: if the assassination 
Could trammel up the consequence, and catch 
With his surcease success ; that but this blow 
Might be the be-all and the end-all here, 
But here, upon this bank and shoal of time, 
We 'd jump the life to come. But in these cases 
We still have judgment here; that we but teach 
Bloody instructions, which being taught return 
To plague the inventor: this even-handed justice 1° 

Commends the ingredients of our poison'd chalice 
To our own lips. He 's here in double trust : 
First, as I am his kinsman and his subject. 
Strong both against -the deed ; then, as his host. 
Who should against his murtherer shut the door, 
Not bear the knife myself Besides, this Duncan 
Hath borne his faculties so meek, hath been 
So clear in his great office, that his virtues 
Will plead like angels trumpet-tongu'd against 
The deep damnation of his taking-off; 20 

And pity, like a naked new-born babe. 
Striding the blast, or heaven's cherubin, hors'd 
Upon the sightless couriers of the air, 
Shall blow the horrid deed in every eye, 
That tears shall drown the wind. ' I have no spur 
To prick the sides of my intent, but only - 
Vaulting ambition, which o'erleaps itself 
And falls on the other. 



ACT I. SCENE VII. 65 

Enter Lady Macbeth. 

How now ! what news ? 

Lady Macbeth. He has almost supp'd : why have you left 
the chamber ? 

Macbeth. Hath he ask'd for me ? 

Lady Macbeth. Know you not he has ? 30 

Macbeth. We will proceed no further in this business : 
He hath honour'd me of late ; and I have bought 
'Golden opinions from all sorts of people, 
Which would be worn now in their newest gloss, 
Not cast aside so soon. 

Lady Macbeth. Was the hope drunk vx 

Wherein you dress'd yourself.'' hath it slept since ? J 
And wakes it now, to look so green and pale 
At what it did so freely 1 From this time 
Such I account thy love. Art thou afeard 
To be the same in thine own act and valour 40 

As thou art in desire ? Wouldst thou have that 
Which thou esteem'st the ornament of life, 
And live a coward in thine own esteem. 
Letting ' I dare not' wait upon ' I would,' 
Like the poor cat i' the adage ? 

Macbeth. Prithee, peace : 

I dare do all that may become a man ; 
Who dares do more is none. 

Lady Macbeth. What beast was 't then 

That made you break this enterprise to me ? 
When you durst do it, then you were a man ; 
And, to be more than what you were, you would so 

Be so much more the man. Nor time nor place 
Did then adhere, and yet you would make both : 
They have made themselves, and that their fitness now 
Does unmake you. I have given suck, and know 
How tender 't is to love the babe that milks me : 

E 



66 MACBETH. 

I would, while it was smiling in my face, 
Have pluck'd my nipple from his boneless gums 
And dash'd the brains out, had I so sworn as you 
Have done to this. 

Macbeth. If we should fail ? 

Lady Macbeth. We fail. 

But screw your courage to the sticking-place, 60 

And we '11 not fail. When Duncan is asleep — 
Whereto the rather shall his day's hard journey 
Soundly invite him — his two chamberlains 
Will I with wine and wassail so convince 
That memory, the warder of the brain. 
Shall be a fume, and the receipt of reason 
A limbeck only : when in swinish sleep 
Their drenched natures lie as in a death, 
What cannot you and I perform upon 

The unguarded Duncan ? what not put upon ?• 

His spongy officers, who shall bear the guilt 
Of our great quell ? 

Macbeth. Bring forth men-children only; 

For thy undaunted mettle should compose 
Nothing but males. Will it not be receiv'd, 
When we have mark'd with blood those sleepy two 
Of his own chamber and us'd their very daggers. 
That they have done 't ? 

Lady Macbeth. Who dares receive it other, 

As we shall make our griefs and clamour roar 
Upon his death ? 

Macbeth. I am settled, and bend up 

Each corporal agent to this terrible feat. 80 

Away, and mock the time with fairest show : 
False face must hide what the false heart doth know. 

\Exeu7it. 



/■■ 




ACT 11. 

Scene I. Court of Macbeth' s Castle. 
Enter Banquo, and Fleance bearing a torch before him. 

Banquo. How goes the night, boy ? 

Fleance. The moon is down, I have not heard the clock. 

Banquo. And she goes down at twelve. 

Fleance. I take 't, 't is later, sir. 

Banquo. Hold, take my sword. — There 's husbandry in 
heaven ; 
Their candles are all out. — Take thee that too. — 
A heavy summons lies like lead upon me. 
And yet I would not sleep. Merciful powers, 
Restrain in me the cursed thoughts that nature 
Gives way to in repose ! — 



68 MACBETH. 

Enter Macbeth, and a Servant with a torch. 

Give me my sword. — 
Who 's there ? lo 

Macbeth. A friend. 

Banquo. What, sir, not yet at rest.? The king 's abed : 
He hath been in unusual pleasure, and 
Sent forth great largess to your offices. 
This diamond he greets your wife withal. 
By the name of most kind hostess ; and shut up 
In measureless content. 

Macbeth. Being unprepar'd, 

Our will became the servant to defect, 
Which else should free have wrought. 

Banquo. All 's well. 

I dreamt last night of the three weird sisters : 20 

To you they have show'd some truth. 

Macbeth. I think not of them : 

Yet, when we can entreat an hour to serve, 
We would spend it in some words upon that business, 
If you would grant the time. 

Banquo. At your kind'st leisure. 

Macbeth. If you shall cleave to my consent, when 't is. 
It shall make honour for you. 

Banquo. So I lose none 

In seeking to augment it, but still keep 
My bosom franchis'd and allegiance clear, 
I shall be counsell'd. 

Macbeth. Good repose the while ! 

Banquo. Thanks, sir : the like to you ! 30 

\Exeunt Banquo and Fleance. 

Macbeth. Go bid thy mistress, when my drink is ready. 
She strike upon the bell. Get thee to bed. — \Exit Servant. 
Is this a dagger which I see before me, 
The handle toward my hand ? — Come, let me clutch thee. 



ACT IL SCENE I. 69 

I have thee not, and yet I see thee still. 

Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible 

To feeling as to sight ? or art thou but 

A dagger of the mind, a false creation. 

Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain ? 

I see thee yet, in form as palpable 40 

As this which now I draw. 

Thou marshall'st me the way that I was going; 

And such an instrument I was to use. — 

Mine eyes are made the fools o' the other senses, 

Or else worth all the rest : I see thee still ; 

And on thy blade and dudgeon gouts of blood. 

Which was not so before. — There 's no such thing : 

It is the bloody business which informs 

Thus to mine eyes. — Now o'er the one half world 

Nature seems dead, and wicked dreams abuse 50 

The curtain'd sleep ; witchcraft celebrates 

Pale Hecate's offerings, and wither'd murther, 

Alarum'd by his sentinel the wolf, 

Whose howl 's his watch, thus with his stealthy pace, 

With Tarquin's ravishing strides, towards his design 

Moves like a ghost. — Thou sure and firm-set earth, 

Hear not my steps, which way they walk, for fear 

Thy very stones prate of my whereabout, 

And take the present horror from the time, 

Which now suits with it. — Whiles I threat he lives : 60 

Words to the heat of deeds too cool breath gives. 

\A bell rings. 
I go, and it is done ; the bell invites me. — 
Hear it not, Duncan, for it is a knell 
That summons thee to heaven or to hell. \Exit. 



70 MACBETH. 

Scene II. The Same. 
Enter Lady Macbeth. 

Lady Macbeth. That which hath made them drunk hath 
made me bold; 
What hath quench'd them hath given me fire. — Hark ! Peace ! 
It was the owl that shriek'd, the fatal bellman, 
Which gives the stern'st good-night. He is about it : 
The doors are open, and the surfeited grooms 
Do mock their charge with snores; I have drugg'd their 

possets, 
That death and nature do contend about them. 
Whether they live or die. 

Macbeth. [ Withifi'] Who 's there ? what, ho ! 

Lady Macbeth. Alack, I am afraid they have awak'd, 
And 't is not done. The attempt and not the deed lo 

Confounds us. Hark ! I laid their daggers ready ; 
He could not miss 'em. Had he not resembled 
My father as he slept, I had done 't. — My husband ! 

Enter Macbeth. 

Macbeth. I have done the deed. Didst thou not hear a 
noise? 

Lady Macbeth.- I heard the owl scream and the crickets 
cry. 
Did not you speak ? 

Macbeth. When? 

Lady Macbeth. Now. 

Macbeth. As I descended ? 

Lady Macbeth. Ay. 

Macbeth. Hark ! %v-^ 

Who lies i' the second chamber? 

Lady Macbeth. Donalbain. 

Macbeth. This is a sorry sight. [Looking on his hands. 20 



ACT II. SCENE IL 



71 



Lady Macbeth. A foolish thought, to say a sorry sight. 

Macbeth. There 's one did laugh in 's sleep, and one cried 
' Murther !' 
That they did wake each other : I stood and heard them : 
But they did say their prayers, and address'd them 
Again to sleep. 

Lady Macbeth. There are two lodg'd together. 

Macbeth. One cried 'God bless us !' and 'Amen' the other; 
As they had seen me with these hangman's hands, 
Listening their fear. I could not say ' Amen ' 
When they did say ' God bless us !' 

Lady Macbeth. Consider it not so deeply. 30 

Macbeth. But wherefore could not I pronounce ' Amen ?' 
I had most need of blessing, and 'Amen' 
Stuck in my throat. 

Lady Macbeth. These deeds must not be thought 
After these ways; so, it will make us mad. 

Macbeth. Methought I heard a voice cry ' Sleep no more ! 
Macbeth does murther sleep ' — the innocent sleep, 
Sleep that knits up the ravell'd sleave of care. 
The death of each day's life, sore labour's bath. 
Balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course, 
Chief nourisher in life's feast, — 

Lady Macbeth. What do you mean ? 40 

Macbeth. Still it cried ' Sleep no more !' to all the house : 
'Glamis hath murther'd sleep, and therefore Cawdor 
Shall sleep no more ; Macbeth shall sleep no more.' 

Lady Macbeth. Who was it that thus cried .-* Why, worthy 
thane. 
You do unbend your noble strength, to think 
So brain'sickly of things. Go get some water, 
And wash this filthy witness from your hand. 
Why did you bring these daggers from the place 1 
They must lie there : go carry them, and smear 
The sleepy grooms with blood. 



72 



MACBETH. 



Macbeth. I '11 go no more : so 

I am afraid to think what I have done ; 
Look on 't again I dare not. 

Lady Macbeth. Infirm of purpose ! 

Give me the daggers : the sleeping and the dead 
Are but as pictures; 't is the eye of childhood 
hThat fears a painted devil. If he do bleed, 
I '11 gild the faces of the grooms withal ; 
For it must seem their guilt. \_Exit. Knocking within. 

Macbeth. Whence is that knocking 1 

How is 't with me, when every noise appals me ? 
What hands are here ? Ha ! they pluck out mine eyes. 
/Will all great Neptune's ocean wash this blood 6o 

Clean from my hand ? No ; this my hand will rather 
The multitudinous seas incarnadine, 
Making the green one red. 

Re-enter Lady Macbeth. 

Lady Macbeth. My hands are of your colour; but I shame 
To wear a heart so white. [Knocki7tgwithi?t^^ I hear a knocking 
At the south entry : retire we to our chamber. 
A little water clears us of this deed : 
How easy is it, then ! Your constancy 
Hath left you unattended. \Kno eking within P\ Hark ! more 

knocking. 
Get on your nightgown, lest occasion call us 7° 

And show us to be watchers. Be not lost 
So poorly in your thoughts. 

Macbeth. To know my deed, 't were best not know myself. 

\Kno eking within. 
Wake Duncan with thy knocking ! I would thou couldst ! 

\Exeunt. 



J 



iX-tfy^^^ 



ACT 11. SCENE III. 73 

Scene III. The Same. 
Enter a Porter. Knocking within. 

Porter. Here 's a knocking indeed ! If a man were porter 
of hell-gate, he should have old turning the key. [Knocking 
wifhin.~\ Knock, knock, knock! Who 's there, i' the name 
-k of Beelzebub ? Here 's a farmer, that hanged himself on th' 
expectation of plenty : come in time ; have napkins enow 
about you ; here you '11 sweat for 't. [Knocking within^^ 
Knock, knock ! Who 's there, in th' other devil's name ? 
Faith, here 's an equivocator, that could swear in both the 
scales against either scale; who committed treason enough 

"t^ for God's sake, yet could not equivocate to heaven : O, come 
in, equivocator. [Knocking within^ Knock, knock, knock ! 
Who 's there .'' Faith, here 's an English tailor come hither, 
for stealing out of a French hose: come in, tailor; here you 
may roast your goose. [Knocking within^ Knock, knock ; 
never at quiet ! What are you ? But this place is too cold 

-. for hell. I'll devil-porter it no further: I had thought to 
have let in some of all professions, that go the primrose way 
to the everlasting bonfire. — [Knocking within.'] Anon, anon ! 
I pray you, remember the porter. [OpcTis the gate. 

Enter Macduff and Lennox. 

Macduff. Was it so late, friend, ere you went to bed, 20 
That you do lie so late ? 

Porter. Faith, sir, we were carousing till the second 

cock. 
Macduff. Is thy master stirring ? 

Enter Macbeth. 

Our knocking has awak'd him ; here he comes. 
Lennox. Good morrow, noble sir. 
Macbeth. Good morrow, both. 



74 



MACBETH. 



Macduff. Is the king stirring, worthy thane ? 

Macbeth. Not yet. 

Macduff. He did command me to call timely on him : 
I have almost slipp'd the hour. 

Macbeth. I '11 bring you to him. 

Macduff. I know this is a joyful trouble to you; 
But yet 't is one. 3^ 

Macbeth. The labour we delight in physics pain. 
This is the door. 

Macduff. I '11 make so bold to call, 

For 't is my limited service. \Exit. 

Lennox. Goes the king hence to day? 

Macbeth. He does : he did appoint so. 

Lennox. The night has been unruly ; where we lay, 
Our chimneys were blown down, and, as they say, 
Lamentings heard i' the air, strange screams of death, 
And prophesying with accents terrible 
Of dire combustion and confus'd events 
New hatch'd to the woeful time ; the obscure bird "^^ 4, 

Clamour'd the livelong night; some say the earth 
Was feverous and did shake. 

Macbeth. 'T was a rough night. 

Lennox. My young remembrance cannot parallel 
A fellow to it. 



Re-enter Macduff. 

Macduff. O horror, horror, horror ! Tongue nor heart 
Cannot conceive nor name thee ! 

Macbeth. 

Lennox. 

Macduff. Confusion now hath made his masterpiece. 
Most sacrilegious murther hath broke ope 
The Lord's anointed temple, and stole thence 
The life o' the building. 

Macbeth. What is 't you say ? the life ? 5« 



h ) 
' >■ What's the matter.? 



ACT II. SCENE III 72 

Lennox. Mean you his majesty? 

Macduff. Approach the chamber, and destroy your sight 
With a new Gorgon. Do not bid me speak ; 
See, and then speak yourselves. [Exeunt Macbeth and Lennox. 

Awake, awake ! 
Ring the alarum-bell. — Murther and treason ! — 
Banquo and Donalbain ! — Malcolm ! awake ! 
Shake off this downy sleep, death's counterfeit, 
And look on death itself! up, up, and see 
The great doom's image ! — Malcolm ! Banquo ! 
As from your graves rise up, and walk like sprites, 6e 

To countenance this horror. Ring the bell. \jBell rings. 

Enter Lady Macbeth. 

Lady Macbeth. What 's the business, 

X That such a hideous trumpet calls to parley 

The sleepers of the house ? speak, speak ! 

Macduff. O gentle lady, 

'T is not for you to hear what I can speak : 
The repetition, in a woman's ear, 
Would murther as it fell. — 

Enter Banquo. 

O Banquo, Banquo! 
Our royal master 's murther'd. 

Lady Macbeth. Woe, alas ! 

What, in our house ? 

Banquo. Too cruel any where. 

Dear Duff, I prithee, contradict thyself, 7x 

And say it is not so. 

Re-enter Macbeth and Lennox. 

Macbeth. Had I but died an hour before this chance, 
I had liv'd a blessed time ; for from this instant 
There 's nothing serious in mortality : 



76 MACBETH. 

All is but toys : renown and grace is dead ; 
The wine of life is drawn, and the mere lees 
Is left this vault to brag of. 

Enter Malcolm and Donalbain. 

Donalbain. What is amiss ? 

Macbeth. You are, and do not know 't : 

The spring, the head, the fountain of your blood 
Is stopp'd, — the very source of it is stopp'd. s® 

Macduff. Your royal father 's murther'd. 

Malcolm. O, by whom ? 

Lennox. Those of his chamber, as it seem'd, had done 't. 
Their hands and faces were all badg'd with blood ; 
So were their daggers, which unwip'd we found 
Upon their pillows : 

They star'd, and were distracted ; no man's life 
Was to be trusted with them, 

Macbeth. O, yet I do repent me of my fury, 
That I did kill them. 

Macduff. Wherefore did you so 1 

Macbeth. Who can be wise, amaz'd, temperate and fu- 
rious, 
Loyal and neutral, in a moment? No man : 99 

The expedition of my violent love 
Outrun the pauser reason. Here lay Duncan, 
His silver skin lac'd with his golden blood. 
And his gash'd stabs look'd like a breach in nature 
For ruin's wasteful entrance ; there, the murtherers, 
Steep'd in the colours of their trade, their daggers 
Unmannerly breech'd with gore : who could refrain, 
That had a heart to love, and in that heart 
Courage to make 's love known ? 

Lady Macbeth. Help me hence, ho ! 100 

Macduff. Look to the lady. 



ACT IL SCENE III. ^y 

Malcolm. [Aside to Donalbaiti\ Why do we hold our 
tongues, 
That most may claim this argument for ours? 

Donalbain. [Aside to Malcolm] yjh2it should be spoken 
here, where our fate, 
Hid in an auger-hole, may rush, and seize us? 
Let 's away j 
Our tears are not yet brew'd. 

Malcolm. [Aside to Donalbain] Nor our strong sorrow 
Upon the foot of motion. 

Banquo. Look to the lady : — 

[Lady Macbeth is carried out. 
And when we have our naked frailties hid, 
That suffer in exposure, let us meet, 

And question this most bloody piece of work, "• 

To know it further. Fears and scruples shake us : 
In the great hand of God I stand, and thence 
Against the undivulg'd pretence I fight 
Of treasonous malice. 

Macduff. And so do I. 

AIL So all. 

Macbeth. Let 's briefly put on manly readiness, 
And meet i' the hall together. 

All Well contented. 

[Exeunt all but Malcolm and Donalbain. 

Malcolm. What will you do ? Let 's not consort with them : 
To show an unfelt sorrow is an office 
Which the false man does easy. I '11 to England. 

Donalbai?i. To Ireland, I : our separated fortune ««> 

Shall keep us both the safer ; where we are, 
There 's daggers in men's smiles : the near in blood, 
The nearer bloody. 

Malcolm. This murtherous shaft that 's shot 

Hath not yet lighted, and our safest way "^v 

Is to avoid the aim. Therefore, to horse ; .. 



78 



MACBETH. 



And let us not be dainty of leave-taking, 

But shift away : there 's warrant in that theft 

Which steals itself when there 's no mercy left. \Exeunt. 

Scene IV. Without the Castle. 
E?iter Ross and an old Man. 

Old Man. Threescore and ten I can remember well : 
Within the volume of which time I have seen 
Hours dreadful and things strange ; but this sore night 
Hath trifled former knowings. 

Ross. Ah, good father, 

Thou seest, the heavens, as troubled with man's act, 
Threaten his bloody stage : by the clock 't is day. 
And yet dark night strangles the travelling lamp. 
Is 't night's predominance, or the day's shame. 
That darkness does the face of earth entomb. 
When living light should kiss it ? 

Old Man. 'T is unnatural, lo 

Even like the deed that 's done. On Tuesday last, 
A falcon, towering in her pride of place, 
Was by a mousing owl hawk'd at and kill'd. 

Ross. And Duncan's horses — a thing most strange and 
certain — 
Beauteous and swift, the minions of their race, 
Turn'd wild in nature, broke their stalls, flung out, 
Contending 'gainst obedience, as they would make 
War with mankind. 

Old Man. 'T is said they eat each other. 

Ross. They did so, to the amazement of mine eyes 
That look'd upon 't. Here comes the good Macduff. — 20 

Enter Macduff. 

How goes the world, sir, now ? 

Macduff. Why, see you not ? 



ACT II. SCENE IV. 



79 



30 



Ross. Is 't known who did this more than bloody deed ? 

Macdujf. Those that Macbeth hath slain. 

Ross. Alas, the day 

What good could they pretend ? 

Macduff. They were suborn'd : 

Malcolm and Donalbain, the king's two sons, 
Are stolen away and fled, which puts upon them 
Suspicion of the deed. 

Ross. 'Gainst nature still : 

Thriftless ambition, that wilt ravin up 
Thine own life's means ! Then 't is most like 
The sovereignty will fall upon Macbeth. 

Macduff. He is already nam'd, and gone to Scone 
To be invested. 

Ross. Where is Duncan's body? 

Macduff. Carried to Colme-kill, > 
The sacred storehouse of his predecessors 
And guardian of their bones. 

Ross. Will you to Scone ? 

Macduff. No, cousin, I '11 to Fife.^^ 

Ross. Well, I will thither. 

Macduff. Well, may you see things well done there : adieu 
Lest our old robes sit easier than our new ! 

Ross. Farewell, father. 

Old Man. God's benison go with you, and with those 
That would make good of bad, and friends of foes ! 

\Exeunt. 



40 





ACT IIL 

Scene I. Forres. A Room in the Palace. 
Enter Banquo. 

Banquo. Thou hast it now, — king, Cawdor, Glamis, a/I.— 
As the weird women promis'd, and I fear 
Thou play'dst most foully for 't. Yet it was said 
It should not stand in thy posterity, 
But that myself should be the root and father 
Of many kings. If there come truth from them — 
As upon thee, Macbeth, their speeches shine — = 
Why, by the verities on thee made good, 
May they not be my oraclfes as well 
And set me up in hope ? But hush ! no more. i 



ACT III. SCENE I. 8 1 

Sennet sounded. Enter Macbeth, as king ; Lady Macbeth, 
as queen ; Lennox, Ross, Lords, Ladies, and Attendants. 

Macbeth. Here 's our chief guest. 

' Lady Macbeth. If he had been forgotten, 

It had been as a gap in our great feast. 
And all-thing unbecoming. 

Macbeth. To-night we hold a solemn supper, sir. 
And I '11 request your presence. 

Banquo. Let your highness 

Command upon me, to the which my duties 
Are with a most indissoluble tie 
For ever knit. 

Macbeth. Ride you this afternoon ? 

Banquo. Ay, my good lord. 19 

Macbeth. We should have else desir'd your good advice, 
Which still hath been both grave and prosperous. 
In this day's council ; but we '11 take to-morrow. 
Is 't far you ride ? 

Banquo. As far, my lord, as will fill up the time 
'Twixt this and supper : go not my horse the better, 
I must become a borrower of the night 
For a dark hour or twain. 

Macbeth. Fail not our feast. 

Banquo. My lord, I will not. 

Macbeth. We hear our bloody cousins are bestow'd 
In England and in Ireland, not confessing 3° 

Their cruel parricide, filling their hearers 
With strange invention : but of that to-morrow, 
When therewithal we shall have cause of state 
Craving us jointly. Hie you to horse : adieu. 
Till you return at night. Goes Fleance with 3'ou .'' 

Banquo. Ay, my good lord : our time does call upon 's. 

Macbeth. I wish your horses swift and sure of foot ; 
And so I do commend you to their backs. 

F 



$2 MACBETH. 

Farewell. — \^Exit Banqiio. 

Let every man be master of his time 40 

Till seven at night. To make society 

The sweeter welcome, we will keep ourself 

Till supper-time alone : while then, God be with you! 

\Exeu7it all but Macbeth and an Attendant, 
Sirrah, a word with you : attend those men 
Our pleasure ? 

Attendant. They are, my lord, without the palace gate. 

Macbeth. Bring them before us. — \_Exit Attendant. 

To be thus is nothing ; 
But to be safely thus. Our fears in Banquo 
Stick deep; and in his royalty of nature 
Reigns that which would be fear'd : 't is much he dares, 50 
And, to that dauntless temper of his mind, 
He hath a wisdom that doth guide his valour 
To act in safety. There is none but he 
Whose being I do fear : and under him 
My Genius is rebuk'd, as it is said 
Mark Antony's was by Caesar. He chid the sisters, 
When first they put the name of king upon me, 
And bade them speak to him ; then prophet-like 
They hail'd him father to a line of kings. 
Upon my head they plac'd a fruitless crown, 60 

And put a barren sceptre in my gripe. 
Thence to be wrench'd with an unlineal hand, 
No son of mine succeeding. If 't be so, 
For Banquo's issue have I fil'd my mind ; 
For them the gracious Duncan have I murther*d; 
Put rancours in the vessel of my peace 
Only for them; and mine eternal jewel 
Given to the common enemy of man. 
To make them kings, the seed of Banquo kings ! 
Rather than so, come, fate, into the list, 70 

And champion me to the utterance ! — Who 's there? — 



ACT III. SCENE I. 



83 



Re-enter Attendant, with two Murderers. 
Now go to the door, and stay there till we call— 

\Exit Attendant. 
Was it not yesterday we spoke together ? 

First Murderer. It was, so please your highness. 

Macbeth. Well then, now 

Have you consider'd of my speeches .'* Know 
That it was he in the times past which held you 
So under fortune, which you thought had been 
Our innocent self. This I made good to you 
In our last conference, pass'd in probation with you, so 

How you were borne in hand, how cross'd, the instruments, 
Who wrought with them, and all things else that might 
To half a soul and to a notion craz'd 
Say 'Thus did Banquo.' 

First Murderer. You made it known to us. 

Macbeth. I did so, and went further, which is now 
Our point of second meeting. Do you find 
Your patience so predominant in your nature 
That you can let this go .'' Are you so gospell'd 
To pray for this good man and for his issue. 
Whose heavy hand hath bow'd you to the grave 
And beggar'd yours for ever t 

First Murderer. We are men, my liege. 90 

Macbeth. Ay, in the catalogue ye go for men. 
As hounds and greyhounds, mongrels, spaniels, curs, 
Shoughs, water-rugs, and demi-wolves, are clept 
All by the name of dogs : the valued file 
Distinguishes the swift, the slow, the subtle, 
The housekeeper, the hunter, every one 
According to the gift which bounteous nature 
Hath in him clos'd ; whereby he does receive 
Particular addition, from the bill 
That writes them all alike : and so of men. loc 



84 MACBETH. 

Now if you have a station in the file, 
Not i' the worst rank of manhood, say 't, 
And I will put that business in your bosoms, 
Whose execution takes your enemy off, 
Grapples" you to the heart and love of us, 
Who wear our health but sickly in his life. 
Which in his death were perfect. 

Secojid Murderer. I am one, my liege, 

Whom the vile blows and buffets of the world 
Have so incens'd that I am reckless what 
I do to spite the world. 

First Murderer. And I another no 

So weary with disasters, tugg'd with fortune, 
That I would set my life on any chance, 
To mend it or be rid on 't. 

Macbeth. Both of you 

Know Banquo was your enemy. 

Both Murderers. True, my lord. 

Macbeth. So is he mine, and in such bloody distance 
That every minute of his being thrusts 
Against my near'st of life : and though I could 
With barefac'd power sweep him from my sight 
And bid my will avouch it, yet I must not, 
For certain friends that are both his and mine, 12c 

Whose loves I may not drop, but wail his fall 
Who I myself struck down : and thence it is. 
That I to your assistance do make love, 
Masking the business from the common eye 
For sundry weighty reasons. 

Second Mu7^de7'er. We shall, my lord, 

Perform what you command us. 

First Murderer. Though our lives — 

Macbeth. Your spirits shine through you. Within this hour 
at most 
I will advise you where to plant yourselves, 



ACT III. SCENE II. 



85 



Acquaint you with the perfect spy o' the time, 

The moment on't; for't must be done to-night, 130 

And something from the palace ; always thought 

That I require a clearness : and with him — 

To leave no rubs nor botches in the work — 

Fleance his son, that keeps him company, 

Whose absence is no less material to me 

Than is his father's, must embrace the fate 

Of that dark hour. Resolve yourselves apart : 

I '11 come to you anon. 

Both Murderers. We are resolv'd, my lord. 

Macbeth. I '11 call upon you straight : abide within. 

\Exeu?it Murderers. 
It is concluded : Banquo, thy soul's flight, 140 

If it find heaven, must find it out to-night. \Exit. 

Scene II, The Same. Another Room. 
Enter Lady Macbeth and a Servant. 

Lady Macbeth. Is Banquo gone from court.? 

Servant. Ay, madam, but returns again to-night. 

Lady Macbeth. Say to the king, I would attend his leisure 
For a few words. 

Servant. Madam, I will. [Exit. 

Lady Macbeth. Nought 's had, all 's spent. 

Where our desire is got without content : 
'T is safer to be that which we destroy 
Than by destruction dwell in doubtful joy. 

Enter Macbeth. 

How now, my lord ! why do you keep alone, 

Of sorriest fancies your companions making. 

Using those thoughts which should indeed have died 10 

With them they think on ? Things without all remedy 

Should be without regard : what 's done is done. 



86 MACBETH. 

Macbeth. We have scotch'd the snake, not kill'd it : 
She '11 close and be herself, whilst our poor malice 
Remains in danger of her former tooth. 
But let the frame of things disjoint, both the worlds suffer, 
Ere we will eat our meal in fear, and sleep 
In the affliction of these terrible dreams 
That shake us nightly ; better be with the dead, 
Whom we, to gain our peace, have sent to peace, 20 

Than on the torture of the mind to lie 
In restless ecstasy. Duncan is in his grave j 
After life's fitful fever he sleeps well ; 
Treason has done his worst : nor steel, nor poison. 
Malice domestic, foreign levy, nothing, 
Can touch him further. 

Lady Macbeth. Come on ; 

Gentle my lord, sleek o'er your rugged looks ; 
Be bright and jovial among your guests to-night. 

Macbeth. So shall I, love ; and so, I pray, be you : 
Let your remembrance apply to Banquo j 30 

Present him eminence, both with eye and tongue : 
Unsafe the while that we 

Must lave our honours in these flattering streams, 
And make our faces visards to our hearts. 
Disguising what they are. 

Lady Macbeth. You must leave this. 

Macbeth. D, full of scorpions is my mind, dear wife ! 
Thou know'st that Banquo, and his Fleance, lives. 

Lady Macbeth. But in them nature's copy 's not eterne. 

Macbeth. There 's comfort yet ; they are assailable ; 
Then be thou jocund. Ere the bat hath flown 40 

His cloister'd flight, ere to black Hecate's summons 
The shard-borne beetle with his drowsy hums 
Hath rung night's yawning peal, there shall be done 
A deed of dreadful note. 

Lady Macbeth. What 's to be done ? 

Macbeth. Be innocent of the knowledge, dearest chuck, 



ACT III. SCENE III. 87 

Till thou applaud the deed. — Come, seeling night, 

Scarf up the tender eye of pitiful day, 

And with thy bloody and invisible hand 

Cancel and tear to pieces that great bond 

Which keeps me pale ! — Light thickens, and the crow 5° 

Makes wing to the rooky wood : 

Good things of day begin to droop and drowse, 

Whiles night's black agents to their preys do rouse. 

Thou marvell'st at my words ; but hold thee still : 

Things bad begun make strong themselves by ill. 

So, prithee, go with me. \Exeunt. 

Scene III. A Park near the Palace. 
Enter three Murderers. 

First Murderer. But who did bid thee join with us ? 

Third Murderer. Macbeth. 

Second Murderer. He needs not our mistrust, since he de 
livers 
Our offices and what we have to do 
To the direction just. 

First Murderer. Then stand with us. 

The west yet glimmers with some streaks of day: 
Now spurs the lated traveller apace 
To gain the timely inn, and near approaches 
The subject of our watch. 

Third Murderer. Hark ! I hear horses. 

Bafiquo. [ Withiii] Give us a light there, ho ! 

Second Murderer. Then 't is he : the rest 

That are within the note of expectation 10 

Already are i' the court. 

First Murderer. His horses go about. 

Third Murderer. Almost a mile: but he does usually, 
So all men do, from hence to the palace gate 
Make it their walk. 

Second Murderer. A light, a light ! 



88 MACBETH. 

Enter Banquo, and Fleance with a Torch. 

Third Murderer. 'T is he. 

First Murderer. Stand to 't. 

Banquo. It will be rain to-night. 

First Murderer. ,. Let it come down. 

\They set upofi Banquo. 

Banquo. O, treachery ! Fly, good Fleance, fly, fly, fly ! 
Thou mayst rev^enge. — O slave! \I)ies. Fleance escapes. 

Third Murderer. Who did strike out the light? 

First Murderer. Was 't not the way ? 

Third Murderer. There 's but one down ; the son is fled. 

Second Mtif^derer. We have lost 

Best half of our affair. 21 

First Murderer. Well, let 's away and say how much is 
done. \Exeunt. 

Scene IV. Hall in the Palace. 

A Banquet prepared. Enter Macbeth, Lady Macbeth, 
Ross, Lennox, Lords, and Attendants. 

Macbeth. You know your own degrees ; sit down : at first 
And last the hearty welcome. 

Lords. Thanks to your majesty. 

Macbeth. Ourself will mingle with society 
And play the humble host. 
Our hostess keeps her state, but in best time 
We will require her welcome. 

Lady Macbeth. Pronounce it for me, sir, to all our friends; 
For my heart speaks they are welcome. 

First Murderer appears at the door. 

Macbeth. See, they encounter thee with their hearts' 
thanks. — 
Both sides are even : here I '11 sit i' the midst 



ACT III. SCENE IV. 89 

Be large in mirth ; anon we '11 drink a measure 
The table round. — \Approaching the door] There 's blood 
upon thy face. 

Murderer. 'T is Banquo's then. 

Macbeth. 'T is better thee without than he within. 
Is he dispatch'd ? 

Murderer. My lord, his throat is cut; that I did for 
him. 

Macbeth. Thou art the best o' the cut-throats : yet he 's 
good 
That did the like for Fleance : if thou didst it, 
Thou art the nonpareil. 

Murderer. Most royal sir, 

Fleance is scap'd. 20 

Macbeth. [Aside] Then comes my fit again : I had else 
been perfect, 
Whole as the marble, founded as the rock. 
As broad and general as the casing air; 
But now I am cabin'd, cribb'd, confin'd, bound in 
To saucy doubts and fears. — But Banquo 's safe ? 

Murderer. Ay, my good lord : safe in a ditch he bides, 
With twenty trenched gashes on his head. 
The least a death to nature. 

Macbeth. Thanks for that. 

\Aside\ There the grown serpent lies; the worm that 's fled 
Hath nature that in time will venom breed, 3° 

No teeth for the present. — Get thee gone : to-morrow 
We '11 hear ourselves again. \Exit Murderer. 

Lady Macbeth. My royal lord. 

You do not give the cheer; the feast is sold 
That is not often vouch'd, while 't is a-making, 
'T is given with welcome : to feed were best at home ; 
From thence the sauce to meat is ceremony; 
Meeting vv^ere bare without it. 

Macbeth, Sweet remembrancer ! 



go MACBETH. 

Now good digestion wait on appetite, 
And health on both ! 

Lennox. May 't please your highness sit. 

\The Ghost of Banqiw enters, and sits in Macbeth^ s place. 

Macbeth. Here had we now our country's honour roof'd, 
Were the grac'd person of our Banquo present j 41 

Who may I rather challenge for unkindness 
Than pity for mischance ! 

Ross. His absence, sir. 

Lays blame upon his promise. Please 't your highness 
To grace us with your royal company. 

Macbeth. The table 's full. 

Lennox. Here is a place reserv'd, sir. 

Macbeth. Where? 

Lennox. Here, my good lord. What is 't that moves your 
highness ? 

Macbeth. Which of you have done this ? 

Lords. What, my good lord ? 

Macbeth. Thou canst not say I did it r never shake so 

Thy gory locks at me. 

Ross. Gentlemen, rise : his highness is not well. 

Lady Macbeth. Sit, worthy friends, my lord is often thus, 
And hath been from his youth : pray you, keep seat; 
The fit is momentary; upon a thought 
He will again be well. If much you note him. 
You shall offend him and extend his passion ; 
Feed, and regard him not. — Are you a man ? 

Macbeth. Ay, and a bold one, that dare look on that 
Which might appal the devil. 

Lady Macbeth. O proper stuff! . 60 

This is the very painting of your fear : 
This is the air-drawn dagger which, you said. 
Led you to Duncan. O, these flaws and starts. 
Impostors to true fear, would well become 
A woman's story at a winter's fire, 



ACT III. SCENE IV. 



91 



Authoriz'd by her grandam. Shame itself! 
Why do you make such faces ? When all 's done, 
You look but on a stool. 

Macbeth. Prithee, see there ! behold ! look ! lo ! how say 
you ? — ' 
Why, what care I ? If thou canst nod, speak too. — 70 

If charnel-houses and our graves must send 
Those that we bury back, our monuments 
Shall be the maws of kites. \Ghost vanishes. 

Lady Macbeth. ■ What, quite unmann'd in folly ? 

Macbeth. If I stand here, I saw him. 

Lady Macbeth. ' Fie, for shame ! 

Macbeth. Blood hath been shed ere now, i' the olden time, 
Ere human statute purg'd the gentle weal ; 
Ay, and since too, murthers have been perform'd 
Too terrible for the ear : the time has been. 
That when the brains were out the man would die, 
And there an end ; but now they rise again, ^ 80 

With twenty mortal murthers on their crowns, 
And push us from our stools. This is more strange 
Than such a murther is. 

Lady Macbeth. My worthy lord, 

Your noble friends do lack you. 

Macbeth. I do forget. — 

Do not muse at me, my most worthy friends; 
I have a strange infirmity, which is nothing 
To those that know me. Come, love and health to all ; 
Then I '11 sit down. — Give me some wine, fill full.— 
I drink to the general joy o' the whole table. 
And to our dear friend Banquo, whom we miss ; 90 

Would he were here ! to all and him we thirst. 
And all to all. 

Lords. Our duties, and the pledge. 



92 



MACBETH. 



Re-enter Ghost. 

Macbeth. Avaunt ! and quit my sight ! let the earth hide 
thee ! 
Thy bones are marrowless, thy blood is cold; 
Thou hast no speculation in those eyes 
Which thou dost glare with. 

Lady Macbeth. Think of this, good peers, 

But as a thing of custom : 't is no other ; 
Only it spoils the pleasure of the time. 

Macbeth. What man dare, I dare : 
Approach thou like the rugged Russian bear, io« 

The arm'd rhinoceros, or the Hyrcan tiger; 
Take any shape but that, and my firm nerves 
Shall never tremble : or be alive again, 
And dare me to the desert with thy sword ; 
If trembling I inhabit then, protest me 
The baby of a girl. Hence, horrible shadow ! 
Unreal mockery, hence ! \Ghost vanishes. 

Why, so : being gone, 
I am a man again. — Pray you, sit still. 

Lady Macbeth. You have displac'd the mirth, broke the 
good meeting, 
With most admir'd disorder. 

Macbeth. Can such things be, no 

And overcome us like a summer's cloud, 
Without our special wonder.? You make me strange 
Even to the disposition that I owe, 
When now I think you can behold such sights. 
And keep the natural ruby of your cheeks, 
When mine is blanch'd with fear. 

Ross. What sights, my lord ? 

LMdy Macbeth. I pray you, speak not ; he grows worse and 
worse; 
Question enrages him. At once, good night : 



ACT III. SCENE IV. 53 

Stand not upon the order of your going, 
But go at once. 

LeiiJiox. Good night ; and better health ^20 

Attend his majesty ! 

Lady Macbeth. A kind good night to all ! 

S^Exeunt all but Macbeth and Lady Macbeth. 

Macbeth. It will have blood, they say ; blood will have 
blood : 
Stones have been known to mov^e and trees to speak ; 
Augurs and understood relations have 
By magot-pies and choughs and rooks brought forth 
The secret'st man of blood. — What is the night? 

Lady Macbeth. Almost at odds with morning, which is 
which. 

Macbeth. How say'st thou, that Macduff denies his person 
At our great bidding? 

Lady Macbeth. Did you send to him, sir? 

Macbeth. I hear it by the way, but I will send : 130 

There 's not a one of them but in his house 
I keep a servant fee'd. I wnll to-morrow, 
And betimes I will, to the weird sisters : 
More shall they speak, for now I am bent to know. 
By the worst means, the worst. For mine own good 
All causes shall give way : I am in blood 
Stepp'd in so far that, should I wade no more, 
Returning were as tedious as go o'er. 
Strange things I have in head that will to hand, 
Which must be acted ere they may be scann'd. 140 

Lady Macbeth. You lack the season of all natures, sleep. 
■ Macbeth. Come, we '11 to sleep. My strange and self-abuse 
Is the initiate fear that wants hard use : 
We are yet but young in deed. [Exeunt. 



94 MACBETH. 



Scene V. A Heath. 
Thunder. Enter the three Witches, meeting Hecate. 

First Witch. Why, how now, Hecate ! you look angerly. 

Hecate. Have I not reason, beldams as you are, 
Saucy and overbold ? How did you dare 
To trade and traffic with Macbeth 
In riddles and affairs of death; 
And I, the mistress of your charms, 
The close contriver of all harms. 
Was never call'd to bear my part, 
Or show the glory of our art ? 

And, which is worse, all you have done lo 

Hath been but for a wayward son, 
Spiteful and wrathful; who, as others do. 
Loves for his own ends, not for you. 
But make amends now : get you gone, 
And at the pit of Acheron 
Meet me i' the morning : thither he 
Will come to know his destiny. 
Your vessels and your spells provide, 
Your charms and every thing beside. 

I am for the air ; this night I '11 spend 20 

Unto a dismal and a fatal end : 
Great business must be wrought ere noon. 
Upon the corner of the moon 
There hangs a vaporous drop profound ; 
I '11 catch it ere it come to ground : 
And that, distill'd by magic sleights, 
Shall raise such artificial sprites 
As by the strength of their illusion 
Shall draw him on to his confusion. 

He shall spurn fate, scorn death, and bear 30 

His hopes 'bove wisdom, grace, and fear: 



ACT III. SCENE VI. 



95 



And you all know security 
Is mortals' chiefest enemy. 

[Music atid a song ivithin : ' Come away, come away,' etc. 
Hark! I am call'd; my little spirit, see, 

Sits in a foggy cloud, and stays for me. \Exit. 

First Witch. Come, let 's make haste; she'll soon be back 

again. \Exeunt. 

Scene VI. Forres. The Palace. 
Enter Lennox and another Lord. 

Lennox. My former speeches have but hit your thoughts, 
Which can interpret farther: only I say 
Things have been strangely borne. The gracious Duncan 
Was pitied of Macbeth: — marry, he was dead ; 
And the right-valiant Banquo walk'd too late; 
Whom, you may say, if 't please you, Fleance kill'd. 
For Fleance fled : men must not walk too late. 
Who cannot want the thought, how monstrous 
It was for Malcolm and for Donalbain 

To kill their gracious father? damned fact! 5:0 

How it did grieve Macbeth ! did he not straight 
In pious rage the two delinquents tear, 
That were the slaves of drink and thralls of sleep? 
Was not that nobly done 1 Ay, and wisely too j 
For 't would have anger'd any heart alive 
To hear the men deny 't. So that, I say. 
He has borne all things well : and I do think 
That had he Duncan's sons under his key — 
As, an 't please heaven, he shall not — they should find 
AVhat 't were to kill a father ; so should Fleance. 2c 

But, peace ! for from broad words, and 'cause he fail'd 
His presence at the tyrant's feast, I hear 
Macduff lives in disgrace. Sir, can you tell 
Where he bestows himself? 



96 



MACBETH. 



Lord. The son of Duncan, 

From whom this tyrant holds the due of birth, 
Lives in the English court, and is receiv'd 
Of the most pious Edward with such grace 
That the malevolence of fortune nothing- 
Takes from his high respect. Thither Macduff 
Is gone to pray the holy king, upon his aid 30 

To wake Northumberland and warlike Siward ; 
That by help of these, with Him above 
To ratify the work, we may again 
Give to our tables meat, sleep to our nights. 
Free from our feasts and banquets bloody knives, 
Do faithful homage and receive free honours ; 
"AH which v\^s pine for now. And this report 
Hath so exasperate the king that he 
Prepares for some attempt of war. 

Lennox. Sent he to Macduff? 

Lord. He did : and with an absolute ' Sir, not I,' 40 

The cloudy messenger turns me his back. 
And hums, as who should say ' You '11 rue J;he time 
That clogs me with this answer.' 

Lennox. And that well might 

Advise him to a caution, to hold what distance 
His wisdom can provide. Some holy angel 
Fly to the court of England and unfold 
His message ere he come, that a swift blessing 
May soon return to this our suffering country : 
Under a hand accurs'd ! 

Lord. I 'II send my prayers with him! 

\_Exeimt 





THE DUNSINANE RANGE. 



ACT IV. 

Scene I. A Caver7t. In the Middle^ a Boiling Cauldron 

Thunder. Enter the three Witches. 

First Witch. Thrice the brinded cat hath mew'd. 

Second Witch. Thrice and once the hedge-pig whin'd. 

l^iird Witch. Harpier cries, — 't is time, 't is time. 

First Witch. Round about the cauldron go ; 
In the poison 'd entrails throw. 
Toad, that under cold stone 
Days and nights has thirty-one 
Swelter'd venom sleeping got, 
Boil thou first i' the charmed pot. 

All. Double, double toil and trouble ; 
Fire burn and cauldron bubble. 



98 MACBETH. 

Second Witch. Fillet of a fenny snake, 
In the cauldron boil and bake ; 
Eye of newt and toe of frog, 
Wool of bat and tongue of dog, 
Adder's fork and blind-worm's sting, 
Lizard's leg and howlet's wing, 
For a charm of powerful trouble, 
Like a hell-broth boil and bubble. 

All. Double, double toil and trouble ; ^ » 

Fire burn and cauldron bubble. 

Third Witch. Scale of dragon, tooth of wolf. 
Witches' mummy, maw and gulf 
Of the ravin'd salt-sea shark. 
Root of hemlock digg'd i' the dark, 
Liver of blaspheming Jew, 
Gall of goat, and slips of yew 
Sliver'd in the moon's eclipse, 
Nose of Turk and Tartar's lips, 

Finger of birth-strangled babe 30 

Ditch-deliver'd by a drab, 
Make the gruel thick and slab : 
Add thereto a tiger's chaudron. 
For the ingredients of our cauldron. 

All Double, double toil and trouble ;' 
Fire burn and cauldron bubble. 

Second Witch. Cool it with a baboon's blood, 
Then the charm is firm and good. 

Enter Hecate. 

Hecate. O, well done ! I commend your pains ; 
And every one shall share i' the gains : ♦© 

And now about the cauldron sing, 
Like elves and fairies in a ring. 
Enchanting all that you put in. 

\Music and a song : ' Black spirits,' etc. Hecate retires. 



ACT IV. SCENE L 99 

Second Witch. By the pricking of my thumbs, 
Something wicked this way comes. 
Open, locks. 
Whoever knocks ! 

Enter Macbeth. 

Macbeth. How now, you secret, black, and midnight hags ! 
What is 't you do ? 

All. A deed without a name. 

Macbeth. I conjure you, by that which you profess, 50 

Howe'cr you come to know it, answer me : 
Though you untie the winds and let them fight 
Against the churches ; though the yesty waves 
Confound and swallow navigation up ; 
Though bladed corn be lodg'd and trees blown down ; 
Though castles topple on their warders' heads ; 
Though palaces and pyramids do slope 
Their heads to their foundations ; though the treasure 
Of nature's germens tumble all together. 
Even till destruction sicken ; answer me. 60 

To what I ask you. 

First Witch. Speak. 

Second Witch. ^ Demand. 

Third Witch. We '11 answer. 

First Witch. Say, if thou 'dst rather hear it from our mouths, 
Or from our masters. 

Macbeth. Call 'em ; let me see 'em. 

First Witch. Pour in sow's blood, that hath eaten 
Her nine farrow ; grease that 's sweaten 
From the murtherer's gibbet throw 
Into the flame. 

All. Come, high or low ; 

Thyself and office deftly show ! 



lOo MACBETH. 

Thunder. First Apparition : an armed Head. 

Macbeth. Tell me, thou unknown power, — 

First Witch. He knows thy thought : 

Hear his speech, but say thou nought. 7° 

First Apparition. Macbeth ! Macbeth ! Macbeth ! beware 
Macduff; 
Beware the thane of Fife. Dismiss me : enough. [Descends. 

Macbeth. Whate'er thou art, for thy good caution thanks ; 
Thou hast harp'd my fear aright : but one word more, — 

First Witch. He will not be commanded : here 's another, 
More potent than the first. 

Thunder. Seco?td Apparition : a bloody Child. 

Second Apparition. Macbeth ! Macbeth ! Macbeth ! 

Macbeth. Had I three ears, I 'd hear thee. 

Second Apparition. Be bloody, bold, and resolute ; laugh 
to scorn 
The power of man, for none of woman born 80 

Shall harm Macbeth. \pesce7tds. 

Macbeth. Then live, Macduff: what need I fear of thee.? 
But yet I '11 make assurance double sure. 
And take a bond of fate : thou shalt not live ; 
That I may tell pale-hearted fear it lies, 
And sleep in spite of thunder. 

Thunder. Third Apparition : a Child crowned, with a tree 

in his hand. 

What is this, 
That rises like the issue of a king, 
And wears upon his baby brow the round 
And top of sovereignty ? 

All. Listen, but speak not to 't. 

Third Apparition. Be lion-mettled, proud, and take no care 
Who chafes, who frets^ or where conspirers are : 91 



ACT JV. SCENE I. loi 

Macbeth shall never vanquish'd be until 

Great Birnam wood to high Dunsinane hill 

Shall come against him. [Descends. 

Macbeth. That will never be : 

Who can impress the forest, bid the tree 
Unfix his earth-bound root ? Sweet bodements ! good ! 
Rebellion's head, rise never, till the wood 
Of Birnam rise, and our high-plac'd Macbeth 
Shall live the lease of nature, pay his breath 
To time and mortal custom. Yet my heart loo 

Throbs to know one thing : tell me, — if your art 
Can tell so much, — shall Banquo's issue ever 
Reign in this kingdom ? 

All. Seek to know no more. 

Macbeth. I will be satisfied : deny me this, 
And an eternal curse fall on you ! Let me know — 
Why sinks that cauldron ? and what noise is this ? 

[Hautboys. 

First Witch. Show ! 

Second Witch. Show ! 

Third Witch. Show ! 

All. Show his eyes, and grieve his heart ; "o 

Come like shadows, so depart ! 

A show of eight Kings, the last with a glass in his hand ; 
Banqiio''s Ghost followitig. 

Macbeth. Thou art too like the spirit of Banquo ; down ! 
Thy crown does sear mine eyeballs. — And thy hair, 
Thou other gold-bound brow, is like the first. — 
A third is like the former. — Filthy hags ! 
Why do you show me this ? — A fourth 1 — Start, eyes ! — 
What, will the line stretch out to the crack of doom ? — 
Another yet ! — A seventh ! — I '11 see no more : — 
And yet the eighth appears, who bears a glass 
Which shows me many more ; and some I see "o 



I02 



MACBETH. 



That twofold balls and treble sceptres carry : 
Horrible sight ! — Now I see 't is true ; 
For the blood-bolter'd Banquo smiles upon me, 
And points at them for his.— \_Apparitions vanish. 

What, is this so ? 

First Witch. Ay, sir, all this is so : but why 
Stands Macbeth thus amazedly ? 
Come, sisters, cheer we up his sprights, 
And show the best of our delights : 
I '11 charm the air to give a sound. 

While you perform your antic round, 13c 

That this great king may kindly say. 
Our duties did his welcome pay. 

\Music. The Witches dance., and then vanish., with Hecate. 

Macbeth. Where are they ? Gone ? Let this pernicious 
hour 
Stand aye accursed in the calendar ! — 
Come in, without there ! 

Enter Lennox. 

Lennox. What 's your grace's will ? 

Macbeth. Saw you the weird sisters ? 

Lennox. No, my lord. 

Macbeth. Came they not by you ? 

Lennox. No indeed, my lord. 

Macbeth. Infected be the air whereon they ride ; 
And damn'd all those that trust them ! — I did hear 
The galloping of horse : who was 't came by } 140 

Lennox. 'T is two or three, my lord, that bring you word 
Macduff is fled to England. 

Macbeth. Fled to England ! 

Lennox. Ay, my good lord. 

Macbeth. [Aside] Time, thou anticipat'st my dread ex- 
ploits : 
The flighty purpose never is o'ertook 



ACT IV. SCENE II. 



103 



Unless the deed go with it. From this moment 
The very firstlings of my heart shall be 
The firstlings of my hand. And even now, 
To crown ray thoughts with acts, be it thought and done : 
The castle of Macduff I will surprise, 150 

A Seize upon Fife, give to the edge o' the sword 
His wife, his babes, and all unfortunate souls 
That trace him in his line. No boasting like a fool; 
This deed I '11 do before this purpose cool. 
But no more sights ! — Where are these gentlemen ? 
Come, bring me where they are. \Exeuni\ 

Scene II. Fife. A Room in Macduff^s Castle. 
Enter Lady Macduff, her Son, and Ross. 

Lady Macduff. What had he done, to make him fly the 
land ? 

Ross. You must have patience, madam. 

Lady Macduff. He had none ; 

His flight was madness : when our actions do not, 
Our fears do make us traitors. 

Ross. You know not 

Whether it was his wisdom or his fear. 

Lady Macduff. Wisdom ! to leave his wife, to leave his 
babes, 
His mansion and his titles, in a place 
From whence himself does fly ? He loves us not ; 
He wants the natural touch : for the poor wren, 
The most diminutive of birds, will fight, 10 

Her young ones in her nest, against the owl. 
All is the fear, and nothing is the love ; 
As little is the wisdom, where the flight 
So runs against all reason. 

Ross. My dearest coz, 

I pray you, school yourself : but for your husband. 



I04 



MACBETH. 



He is noble, wise, judicious, and best knows 

The fits o' the season. I dare not speak much further ; 

But cruel are the times, when we are traitors 

And do not know ourselves ; when we hold rumour 

From what we fear, yet know not what we fear, 20. 

But float upon a wild and violent sea 

Each way and move. I take my leave of you ; 

Shall not be long but I '11 be here again. 

Things at the worst will cease, or else climb upward 

To what they were before. My pretty cousin, 

Blessing upon you ! 

Lady Macduff. Father'd he is, and yet he 's fatherless. 

Ross. I am so much a fool, should I stay longer. 
It would be my disgrace and your discomfort : 
I take my leave at once. \Exit. 

Lady Macduff. Sirrah, your father 's dead : 30 

And what will you do now ? How will you live ? 

Son. As birds do, mother. 

Lady Macduff. What, with worms and flies 1 

Son. With what I get, I mean ; and so do they. 

Lady Macduff. Poor bird ! thou 'dst never fear the net nor 
lime. 
The pitfall nor the gin. 

Son. Why should I, mother ? Poor birds they are not set 
for. 
My father is not dead, for all your saying. 

Lady Macduff. Yes, he is dead : how wilt thou do for a 
father ? 

Son. Nay, how will you do for a husband ? 

Lady Macduff. Why, I can buy me twenty at any market. 

Son. Then you '11 buy 'em to sell again. 41 

Lady Macduff. Thou speak'st with all thy wit, and yet, J 
faith. 
With wit enough for thee. 

Son. Was my father a traitor, mother ? 



ACT IV. SCENE II. 



105 



Lady Macduff. Ay, that he was. 

Son. What is a traitor ? 

Lady Macduff. Why, one that swears and lies. 

Sofi. And be all traitors that do so ? 

Lady Macduff. Every one that does so is a traitor, and 
must be hanged. 5° 

Son. And must they all be hanged that swear and lie ? 

Lady Macdiff. Every one. 

Son. Who must hang them ? 

Lady Macduff. Why, the honest men. 

Son. Then the liars and swearers are fools, for there are 
liars and swearers enow to beat the honest men and hang up 
them. 

Lady Macduff. Now, God help thee, poor monkey ! But 
how wilt thou do for a father ? 59 

Son. If he were dead, you 'd weep for him : if you would 
not, it were a good sign that I should quickly have a new 
father. 

Lady Macduff. Poor prattler, how thou talk'st ! 

Enter a Messenger. 

Messenger. Bless you, fair dame ! I am not to you known, 
Though in your state of honour I am perfect. 
I doubt some danger does approach you nearly : 
If you will take a homely man's advice. 
Be not found here ; hence, with your little ones. 
To fright you thus, methinks I am too savage; 
To do worse to you were fell cruelty, 70 

Which is too nigh your person. Heaven preserve you ! 
I dare abide no longer. \Exit. 

Lady Macduff. Whither should I fly ? 

I have done no harm. But I remember now 
I am in this earthly world, where to do harm 
Is often laudable, to do good sometime 
Accounted dangerous folly : why then, alas, 



io6 MACBETH. 

Do I put up that womanly defence, 
To say I have done no harm ? — 

Enter Murderers. 

What are these faces ? 
First Murderer. Where is your husband ? 
Lady Macduff. I hope, in no place so unsanctified 80 

Where such as thou mayst find him. 

First Murderer. He 's a traitor. 

Son. Thou liest, thou shag-hair'd villain ! 
First Murderer. What, you ^g^ ! 

\Stabbing him. 
Young fry of treachery ! 

Son. He has kill'd me, mother : 

Run away, I pray you ! \Dies. 

[Fxit Lady Macduff., crying ' Murther !' 
Exeunt Murderers, following her. 

Scene IH. England. Before the Kiftg^s Palace. 
Enter Malcolm and Macduff. 

Malcolm. Let us seek out some desolate shade, and there 
Weep our sad bosoms empty. 

Macduff. Let us rather 

Hold fast the mortal sword, and like good men 
Bestride our down-fallen birthdom. Each new morn 
New widows howl, new orphans cry, new sorrows 
Strike heaven on the face, that it resounds 
As if it felt with Scotland and yell'd out 
Like syllable of dolour. 

Malcolm. What I believe, I '11 wail ; 

What know, believe ; and what I can redress. 
As I shall find the time to friend, I will. xc 

What you have spoke, it may be so perchance. 
This tyrant, whose sole name blisters our tongues, 



ACT IV. SCENE III. 



107 



Was once thought honest: you have lov'd him well; 

He hath not touch'd you yet. I am young; but something 

You may deserve of him through me, and wisdom 

To offer up a weak poor innocent lamb 

To appease an angry god. 

Macduff. I am not treacherous. 

Malcolm. But Macbeth is. 

A good and virtuous nature may recoil 

In an imperial charge. But I shall crave your pardon; 2c 
That which you are my thoughts cannot transpose ; 
Angels are bright still, though the brightest fell; 
Though all things foul would wear the brows of grace, 
Yet grace must still look so. 

Macduff. I have lost my hopes. 

Malcolm. Perchance even there where I did find my 
doubts. 
Why in that rawness left you wife and child, 
Those precious motives, those strong knots of love, 
Without leave-taking ? I pray you. 
Let not my jealousies be your dishonours. 
But mine own safeties : you may be rightly just, 3c 

Whatever I shall think. 

Macduff. Bleed, bleed, poor country ! 

Great tyranny, lay thou thy basis sure. 
For goodness dare not check thee ! wear thou thy wrongs; 
The title is affeer'd ! — Fare thee well, lord : 
I would not be the villain that thou think'st 
For the whole space that 's in the tyrant's grasp, 
And the rich East to boot. 

Malcolm. Be not offended : 

I speak not as in absolute fear of you. 
I think our country sinks beneath the yoke ; 
It weeps, it bleeds, and each new day a gash ^ 

Is added to her wounds : I think withal 
There would be hands uplifted in my right; 



lo8 MACBETH. 

And here from gracious England have I offer 
Of goodly thousands ; but for all this, 
When I shall tread upon the tyrant's head, 
Of wear it on my sword, yet my poor country 
Shall have more vices than it had before, 
More suffer, and more sundry ways than ever, 
By him that shall succeed. 

Macduff. What should he be? 

Malcolm. It is myself I mean ; in whom I know ?o 

All the particulars of vice so grafted 
That, when they shall be open'd, black Macbeth 
Will seem as pure as snow, and the poor state 
Esteem him as a lamb, being compar'd 
With my confineless harms. 

Macduff. Not in the legions 

Of horrid hell can come a devil more damn'd 
In evils to top Macbeth. 

Malcolm. I grant him bloody, 

Luxurious, avaricious, false, deceitful, 
Sudden, malicious, smacking of every sin 
That has a name ; but there 's no bottom, none, 60 

In my voluptuousness : your wives, your daughters. 
Your matrons and your maids, could not fill up 
The cistern of my lust, and my desire 
All continent impediments would o'erbear 
That did oppose my will. Better Macbeth 
Than such an one to reign. 

Macduff. Boundless intemperance 

In nature is a tyranny ; it hath been 
The untimely emptying of the happy throne, 
And fall of many kings. But fear not yet 
To take upon you what is yours ; you may 70 

Convey your pleasures in a spacious plenty, 
And yet seem cold, the time you may so hoodwink. 
We have willing dames enough ; there cannot be 



ACT IV. SCENE III. 109 

That vulture in you, to devour so many 
As will to greatness dedicate themselves, 
Finding it so inclin'd. 

Malcolm. With this there grows 

In my most ill-compos'd affection such 
A stanchless avarice that, were I king, 
I should cut off the nobles for their lands. 
Desire his jewels and this other's house ; ao 

And my more-having would be as a sauce 
To make me hunger more, that I should forge 
Quarrels unjust against the good and loyal. 
Destroying them for wealth. 

Macduff. This avarice 

Sticks deeper, grows with more pernicious root 
Than summer-seeming lust, and it hath been 
The sword of our slain kings : yet do not fear ; 
Scotland hath foisons to fill up your will, 
Of your mere own. All these are portable, 
With other graces weigh'd. 90 

Malcolm. But I have none : the king-becoming graces, 
As justice, verity, temperance, stableness, 
Bounty, perseverance, mercy, lowliness. 
Devotion, patience, courage, fortitude, 
I have no relish of them, but abound 
In the division of each several crime. 
Acting it many ways. Nay, had I power, I should 
Pour the sweet milk of concord into hell. 
Uproar the universal peace, confound 
All unity on earth. 

Macduff. O Scotland, Scotland ! 100 

Malcolm. If such a one be fit to govern, speak: 
I am as I have spoken. 

Macduff. Fit to govern ! 

No, not to live. — O nation miserable ! 
With an untitled tyrant bloody-scepter'd. 



no MACBETH. 

When shalt thou see thy wholesome days again, 

Since that the truest issue of thy throne 

By his own interdiction stands accurs'd, 

And does blaspheme his breed ? — Thy royal father 

Was a most sainted king : the queen that bore thee, 

Oftener upon her knees than on her feet, no 

Died every day she liv'd. — Fare thee well ! 

These evils thou repeat'st upon thyself 

Have banish'd me from Scotland. — O my breast, 

Thy hope ends here ! 

Malcolm. Macduff, this noble passion, 

Child of integrity, hath from my soul 
Wip'd the black scruples, reconcil'd my thoughts 
To thy good truth and honour. Devilish Macbeth 
By many of these trains hath sought to win me 
Into his power, and modest wisdom plucks me 
From over-credulous haste : but God above • 120 

Deal between thee and me ! for even now 
I put myself to thy direction, and 
Unspeak mine owai detraction, here abjure 
The taints and blames I laid upon myself, 
For strangers to my nature. I am yet 
Unknown to woman, never was forsworn, 
Scarcely have coveted what was mine own, 
At no time broke my faith, would not betray 
The devil to his fellow, and delight 

No less in truth than life : my first false speaking 130 

Was this upon myself. What I am truly, 
Ts thine and my poor country's to command; 
Whither indeed, before thy here-approach, 
Old Siward, with ten thousand warlike men^ 
Already at a point, was setting forth. 
Now we '11 together, and the chance of goodness 
Be like our warranted quarrel! Why are you silent? 

Macduff. Such welcome and unwelcome things at once 
'T is hard to reconcile. 



ACT IV. SCENE III. m 

Enter a Doctor. 

Malcolm. Well, more anon. — Comes the king forth, I pray 
you ? 140 

Doctor. Ay, sir ; there are a crew of wretched souls 
That stay his cure : their malady convinces 
The great assay of art ; but at his touch, 
Such sanctity hath heaven given his hand. 
They presently amend. 

Malcolm, I thank you, doctor. \Exit Doctor, 

Macduff. What 's the disease he means ? 

Malcolm. 'T is call'd the evil : 

A most miraculous work in this good king ; 
Which often, since my here-remain in England, 
I have seen him do. How he solicits heaven. 
Himself best knows : but strangely-visited people, iso 

All swoln and ulcerous, pitiful to the eye, 
The mere despair of surgery, he cures. 
Hanging a golden stamp about their necks. 
Put on with holy prayers ; and 't is spoken. 
To the succeeding royalty he leaves 
The healing benediction. With this strange virtue, 
He hath a heavenly gift of prophecy. 
And sundry blessings hang about his throne 
That speak him full of grace. 

Enter Ross. 

Macduff. See, who comes here ? 

Malcolm. My countryman ; but yet I know him not. 160 

Macduff. My ever-gentle cousin, welcome hither. 

Malcolm. I know him now. Good God, betimes remove 
The means that makes us strangers ! 

Ross. Sir, amen. 

Macduff. Stands Scotland where it did ? 

Ross. Alas, poor country ! 

Almost afraid to know itself It cannot 



113 MACBETH. 

Be call'd our mother, but our grave ; where nothing, 

But who knows nothing, is once seen to smile ; 

Where sighs and groans and shrieks that rent the air 

Are made, not mark'd ; where violent sorrow seems 

A modern ecstasy : the dead man's knell 170 

Is there scarce ask'd for who ; and good men's lives 

Expire before the flowers in their caps, 

Dying or ere they sicken. 

Macduff. O, relation 

Too nice, and yet too true ! 

Malcolm. What 's the newest grief? 

Ross. That of an hour's age doth hiss the speaker j 
Each minute teems a new one. 

Macduff. How does my wife ? 

Ross. Why, well. 

Macduff. And all my children ? 

Ross. Well too. 

Macduff. The tyrant has not batter'd at their peace? 

Ross. No ; they were well at peace when I did leave 'em. 

Macduff. Be not a niggard of your speech : how goes 't ? 

Ross. When I came hither to transport the tidings, 181 
Which I have heavily borne, there ran a rumour 
Of many worthy fellows that were out ; 
Which was to my belief witness'd the rather. 
For that I saw the tyrant's power a-foot. 
Now is the time of help ; your eye in Scotland 
Would create soldiers, make our women fight, 
To doff their dire distresses. 

Malcolm. Be 't their comfort 

We are coming thither ; gracious England hath 
Lent us good Siward and ten thousand men ; »9o 

An older and a better soldier none 
That Christendom gives out. 

Ross. Would I could answer 

This comfort with the like ! But I have words 



ACT IV. SCENE III. 



113 



That would be howl'd out in the desert air, 
Where hearing should not latch them. 

Macduff. What concern they ? 

The general cause ? or is it a fee-grief 
Due to some single breast ? 

Ross. No mind that 's honest 

But in it shares some woe, though the main part 
Pertains to you alone. 

Macduff. If it be mine, 

Keep it not from me, quickly let me have it. 200 

Ross. Let not your ears despise my tongue for ever, 
Which shall possess them with the heaviest sound 
That ever yet they heard. 

Macduff. Hum ! I guess at it. 

Ross. Your castle is surpris'd ; your wife and babes 
Savagely slaughter'd : to relate the manner. 
Were, on the quarry of these murther'd deer, 
To add the death of you. 

Malcolm. Merciful heaven ! — 

What, man ! ne'er pull your hat upon your brows \ 
Give sorrow words : the grief ihat does not speak 
Whispers the o'er-fraught heart, and bids it break. 210 

Macduff. My children too ? 

Ross. Wife, children, servants, all. 

That could be found. 

Macduff. And I must be from thence ! — 

My wife kill'd too ? 

Ross. I have said. 

Malcolm. Be comforted : 

Let 's make us medicines of our great revenge, 
To cure this deadly grief 

Macduff. He has no children. — All my pretty ones ? 
Did you say all .?— O hell-kite 1— All ? 
What, all my pretty chickens and their dam 
At one fell swoop ? 

H 



114 



MACBETH. 



I shall do so ; 



Malcolm. Dispute it like a man. 

Macduff. 
But I must also feel it as a roan : 
I cannot but remember such things were, 
That were most precious to me. — Did heaven look on. 
And would not take their part ? Sinful Macduff, 
They were all struck for thee ! naught that I am, 
Not for their own demerits, but for mine. 
Fell slaughter on their souls. Heaven~rest them now ! 

Malcolm. Be this the whetstone of your sword : let grief 
Convert to anger ; blunt not the heart, enrage it. 

Macduff. O, I could play the woman with mine eyes, 230 
And braggart with my tongue ! — But, gentle heavens. 
Cut short all intermission ; front to front 
Bring thou this fiend of Scotland and myself; 
Within my sword's length set him; if he scape. 
Heaven forgive him too ! 

Malcolm. This tune goes manly. 

Come, go we to the king : our power is ready; 
Our lack is nothing but our leave. Macbeth 
Is ripe for shaking, and the powers above 
Put on their instruments. Receive what cheer you may ; 
The night is long that never finds the day. 24c 

[Exeunt. 




SEAL OF EDWARD THE CONFESSOR. 




DUNKELD. 



ACT V. 

Scene I. Dunsinane. A Room in the Castle-. 
Enter a Doctor of Physic and a Waiting Gentlewoman. 

Doctor. I have two nights watched with you, but can per- 
ceive no truth in your report. When was it she last walked ? 

Gentlewoman. Since his majesty went into the field, I have 
seen her rise from her bed, throw her nightgown upon her, 
unlock her closet, take forth paper, fold it, write upon 't, read 
it, afterwards seal it, and again return to bed; yet all this 
while in a most fast sleep. 

Doctor. A great perturbation in nature, to receive at once 
the benefit of sleep and do the effects of watching! In this 
slumbery agitation, besides her walking and other actual 
performances, what at any time have you heard her say? " 

Gentlewoma?t. That, sir, which I will not report after her. 

Doctor. You may to me, and 't is most meet you should. 



Ii6 MACBETH. 

Gentlewoman. Neither to you nor any one, having no wit- 
ness to confirm my speech. 

Enter Lady Macbeth, with a taper. 

Lo you, here she comes ! This is her very guise ; and, upon 
my life, fast asleep. Observe her; -stand close. 

Doctor. How came she by that light ? 

Gentlewoman. Why, it stood by her : she has light by her 
continually; 't is her command. 20 

Doctor. You see, her eyes are open. 

Gentlewoman. Ay, but their sense is shut. 

Doctor. What is it she does now 1 Look, how she rubs 
her hands. 

Gentlewomafi. It is an accustomed action with her, to 
seem thus washing her hands : I have known her continue 
in this a quarter of an hour. 

Lady Macbeth. Yet here 's a spot. 

Doctor. Hark ! she speaks : I will set down what comes 
from her, to satisfy my remembrance the more strongly. 30 

Lady Macbeth. Out, damned spot ! out, I say ! — One : two : 
why, then 't is time to do 't. — Hell is murky ! — Fie, my lord, 
fie ! a soldier, and afeard ? What need we fear who knows 
it, when none can call our power to account? — Yet who 
would have thought the old man to have had so much 
blood in him ? 

Doctor. Do you mark that? 

Lady Macbeth. The thane of Fife had a wife : where is 
she now? — What, will these hands ne'er be clean? — No 
more o' that, my lord, no more o' that : you mar all with 
this starting. 41 

Doctor. Go to, go to; you have known what you should 
not. 

Gentleivoman. She has spoke what she should not, I am 
sure of that : heaven knows what she has known. 

Lady Macbeth. Here 's the smell of the blood still : all the 



ACT V. SCENE L 1 1? 

perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand. Oh, 
oh, oh ! 

Doctor. What a sigh is there ! The heart is sorely 
charged. 5° 

Gentlewoman. I would not have such a heart in my 
bosom for the dignity of the whole body. 

Doctor. Well, well, well, — 

Gentlewoman. Pray God it be, sir. 

Doctor. This disease is beyond my practice : yet I have 
known those which have walked in their sleep who have 
died holily in their beds^ 

Lady Macbeth. Wash your hands, put on your nightgown; 
look not so pale. — I tell you yet again, Banquo 's buried ; he 
cannot come out on 's grave. 60 

Doctor. Even so ? 

Lady Macbeth. To bed, to bed ! there 's knocking at the 
gate : come, come, come, come, give me your hand. What 's 
done cannot be undone. To bed, to bed, to bed ! [Exit. 

Doctor. Will she go now to bed ? 

Gentlewoman. Directly. 

Doctor. Foul whisperings are abroad. Unnatural deeds 
Do breed unnatural troubles : infected minds 
To their deaf pillows will discharge their secrets. 
More needs she the divine than the physician. — 70 

God, God forgive us all ! — Look after her; 
Remove from her the means of all annoyance, 
And still keep eyes upon her. So, good night : 
My mind she has mated, and amaz'd my sight. 
I think, but dare not speak. 

Gentlewo7nan. Good night, good doctor. 

\Exeunt. 



Ii8 - MACBETH. 



Scene II. The Country near Dunsinane. 

Drum and colours. JSnter Menteith, Caithness, Angus, 
Lennox, and Soldiers. 

Me7iteith. The English power is near, led on by Malcolm, 
His uncle Siward, and the good Macduff. 
Revenges burn in them ; for their dear causes 
Would to the bleeding and the grim alarm 
Excite the mortified man. 

Angus. Near Birnam wood 

Shall we well meet them ; that way are they coming. 

Caithness. Who knows if Donalbain be with his brother? 

Lejinox. For certain, sir, he is not. I have a file 
Of all the gentry : there is Siward's son, 
And many unrough youths, that even now lo 

Protest their first of manhood. 

Menteith. What does the tyrant ? 

Caithness. Great Dunsinane he strongly fortifies. . 
Some say he 's mad ; others, that lesser hate him, 
Do call it valiant fury : but, for certain. 
He cannot buckle his distemper'd cause 
Within the belt of rule. 

Aftgus. Now does he feel 

His secret murthers sticking on his hands ; 
Now minutely revolts upbraid his faith-breach: 
Those he commands move only in command, 
Nothing in love; now does he feel his title 20 

Hang loose about him, like a giant's robe 
Upon a dwarfish thief 

Menteith. Who then shall blame 

His pester'd senses to recoil and start. 
When all that is within him does condemn 
Itself for being there "i 

Caithness. Well, march we on. 



ACT V. SCENE III. 



119 



To give obedience where 't is truly owed : 
Meet we the medicine of the sickly weal, 
And with him pour we in our country's purge 
Each drop of us. 

Lennox. Or so much as it needs, 

To dew the sovereign flower and drown the weeds. 3c 

Make we our march towards Birnam. \_Exewtf, marching. 

Scene III. Dunsinane. A Room in the Castle. 
Enter Macbeth, Doctor, and Attendants. 

Macbeth. Bring me no more reports; let them fly all: 
Till Birnam wood remove to Dunsinane, 
I cannot taint with fear. What 's the boy Malcolm ? 
Was he not born of woman ? The spirits that know 
All mortal consequences have pronounc'd me thus : 
' Fear not, Macbeth ; no man that 's born of woman 
Shall e'er have power upon thee.' Then fly, false thanes, 
And mingle with the English epicures : 
The mind I sway by and the heart I bear 
Shall never sag with doubt nor shake with fear. 10 

Enter a Servant. 

The devil damn thee black, thou cream-fac'd loon ! 
Where gott'st thou that goose look ? 

Servant. There is ten thousand — 

Macbeth. Geese, villain ? 

Servant. Soldiers, sir. 

Macbeth. Go prick thy face, and over-red thy fear. 
Thou lily-liver'd boy. What soldiers, patch ? 
Death of thy soul ! those linen cheeks of thine 
Are counsellors to fear. What soldiers, whey-face ? 

Servant. The English force, so please you. 

Macbeth. Take thy face hence. — ' \Exit Servant. 

Seyton !— I am sick at heart, 



I20 MACBETH. 

When I behold — Seyton, I say ! — This push 20 

Will cheer me ever, or dis-ease me now. 

I have liv'd long enough : my way of life 

Is fallen into the sear, the yellow leaf, 

And that which should accompany old age, 

As honour, love, obedience, troops of friends, 

I must not look to have; but, in their stead. 

Curses, not loud but deep, mouth-honour, breath, 

Which the poor heart would fain deny, and dare not. — 

Seyton ! 

Enter Seyton. 

Seyton. What 's your gracious pleasure ? 

Macbeth. What news more r 30 

Seyton. All is confirm'd, my lord, which was reported. 

Macbeth. I '11 fight till from my bones my flesh be hack'd. 
Give me my armour. 

Seyton. 'T is not needed yet. 

Macbeth. I '11 put it on. 
Send out moe horses, skirr the country round ; 
Hang those that talk of fear. Give me mine armour. — 
How does your patient, doctor ? 

Doctor. Not so sick, my lord, 

As she is troubled with thick-coming fancies, 
That keep her from her rest. 

Macbeth. Cure her of that. 

Canst thou not minister to a mind diseas'd, 40 

Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow. 
Raze out the written troubles of the brain, 
And with some sweet oblivious antidote 
Cleanse the stuff'd bosom of that perilous stuff 
Which weighs upon the heart ? 

Doctor. Therein the patient 

Must minister to himself. 

Macbeth. Throw physic to the dogs, I '11 none of it. — 



ACT V. SCENE IV. 12 1 

Come, put mine armour on ; give me my staff. — 

Seyton, send out. — Doctor, the thanes fly from me. — 

Come, sir, dispatch. — If thou couldst, doctor, cast sa 

The water of my land, find her disease. 

And purge it to a sound and pristine health, 

I would applaud thee to the very echo, 

That should applaud again. — Pull 't off, I say. — 

What rhubarb, senna, or what purgative drug, 

Would scour these English hence ? Hear'st thou of them? 

Doctor. Ay, my good lord ; your royal preparation 
Makes us hear something. 

Macbeth. Bring it after me. — 

I will not be afraid of death and bane 59 

Till Birnam forest come to Dunsinane. \Exit. 

Doctor. Were I from Dunsinane away and clear, 
Profit again should hardly draw me here. \Exit. 

Scene IV. Country near Birnam Wood. 

Drum and colours. Efiter Malcolm, old Si ward and his 
Son, Macduff, Menteith, Caithness, Angus, Lennox, 
Ross, and Soldiers, marching. 

Malcolm. Cousins, I hope the days are near at hand 
That chambers will be safe. 

Menteith. We doubt it nothing. 

Siward. What wood is this before us .'' 

Menteith. The wood of Birnam, 

Malcobn. Let every soldier hew him down a bough, 
And bear 't before him ; thereby shall we shadow 
The numbers of our host, and make discovery 
Err in report of us. 

Soldiers. It shall be done. 

Siward. We learn no other but the confident tyrant 
Keeps still in Dunsinane, and will endure 
Our setting down before 't. 



122 MACBETH. 

Malcolm. 'T is his main hope; lo 

For where there is advantage to be given, 
Both more and less have given him the revolt, 
And none serve with him but constrained things 
Whose hearts are absent too. 

Macduff. Let our just censures 

Attend the true event, and put we on 
Industrious soldiership. 

Siward. The time approaches 

That will with due decision make us know 
What we shall say we have and what we owe. 
Thoughts speculative their unsure hopes relate, 
But certain issue strokes must arbitrate ; 2«. 

Towards which advance the war. \Exeunt^ marching. 

Scene V. Dunsinane. Within the Castle. 

Enter Macbeth, Seyton, aiid Soldiers, with drum and 

colours. 

Macbeth. Hang out our banners on the outward walls; 
The cry is still 'They come!' Our castle's strength 
Will laugh a siege to scorn ; here let them lie 
Till famine and the ague eat them up. 
Were they not forc'd with those that should be ours. 
We might have met them dareful, beard to beard. 
And beat them backward home. \^A cry of women within. 

What is that noise .'' 

Seyton. It is the cry of women, my good lord. \Exit. 

Macbeth. I have almost forgot the taste of fears : 
The time has been, my senses would have cool'd lo 

To hear a night-shriek, and my fell of hair 
Would at a dismal treatise rouse and stir 
As life were in 't. I have supp'd full with horrors ; 
Direness, familiar to my slaughterous thoughts, 
Cannot once start me. — 



. ACT V. SCENE V. 123 

Re-enter Seyton. 

Wherefore was that cry ? 

Seyton. The queen, my lord, is dead. 

Macbeth, She should have died hereafter; 
There would have been a time for such a word. 
To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow, 
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day 2° 

To the last syllable of recorded time, 
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools 
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle ! 
Life 's but a walking shadow, a poor player 
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage 
And then is heard no more ; it is a tale 
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, 
Signifying nothing. — 

Enter a Messenger. 

Thou com'st to use thy tongue ; thy story quickly. 

Messenger. Gracious my lord, 30 

I should report that which I say I saw, 
But know not how to do it. 

Macbeth. Well, say, sir. 

Messenger. As I did stand my watch upon the hill, 
I look'd toward Birnam, and anon, methought, 
The wood began to move. 

Macbeth. Liar and slave ! 

Messenger. Let me endure your wrath, if 't be not so : 
Within this three mile may you see it coming ; 
I say, a moving grove. 

Macbeth. If thou speak'st false, 

Upon the next tree shalt thou hang alive 
Till famine cling thee ; if thy speech be sooth, . 40 

I care not if thou dost for me as much. — 
I pull in resolution, and begin 



124 MACBETH. 

To doubt the equivocation of the fiend 

That lies like truth : ' Fear not, till Birnam wood 

Do come to Dunsinane;' and now a wood 

Comes towatd Dunsinane. — Arm, arm, and out !-^ 

If this which he avouches does appear, 

There is nor flying hence nor tarrying here. 

I gin to be aweary of the sun, 

And wish the estate o' the world were now undone.- — 5° 

Ring the alarum-beJl ! — Blow, wind ! come, wrack ! 

At least we '11 die with harness on our back. [Exeunt. 

Scene VI. Dunsijiane. Befo?-e the Castle. 

Drum and colours. Enter Malcolm, old Siward, Macduff, 
and their Army, with boughs. 

Malcolm. Now near enough : your leavy screens throw 
down. 
And show like those you are. — You, worthy uncle, 
Shall with my cousin, your right-noble son, 
Lead our first battle; worthy Macduff and we 
Shall take upon 's what else remains to do, 
According to our order. 

Siward. Fare you well. 

Do we but find the tyrant's power to-night. 
Let us be beaten, if we cannot fight. 

Macduff. Make all our trumpets speak ; give them all 
breath. 
Those clamorous harbingers of blood and death. [Exeunt. 

Scene VII. Another Part of the Field. 
Alarums. Enter Macbeth. 

Macbeth. They have tied me to a stake ; I cannot fly. 
But, bear-like, I must fight the course. What 's he 
That was not born of woman? Such a one 
Am I to fear, or none. 



ACT V. SCENE VII. 125 

Enter young Si ward. 

Young Siward. What is thy name ? 

Macbeth. Thou 'It be afraid to hear it. 

Young Siward. No ; though thou call'st thyself a hotter 
name 
Than any is in hell. 

Macbeth. My name 's Macbeth. 

Young Siward. The devil himself could not pronounce a 
title 
More hateful to mine ear. 

Macbeth. No, nor more fearful. 9 

Young Siward. Thou liest, abhorred tyrant; with my sword 
I '11 prove the lie thou speak'st. 

\_TheyJight, and young Siward is slain. 

Macbeth. Thou wast born of woman. — 

But swords I smile at, weapons laugh to scorn, 
Brandish'd by man that 's of a woman born. \Exit. 

Ala? urns. Ei2ter Macduff. 

Macduff. That way the noise is. — Tyrant, show thy face ! 
If thou be'st slain and with no stroke of mine, 
My wife and children's ghosts will haunt me still. 
I cannot strike at wretched kerns, wdiose arms 
Are hir'd to bear their staves : either thou, Macbeth, 
Or else my sw^ord with an unbatter'd edge 
I sheathe again undeeded. There thou shouldst be; 20 

By this great clatter, one of greatest note 
Seems bruited. Let me find him, fortune ! 
And more I beg not. \Exit. Alarums. 

Enter Malcolm and old Siward. 
Siward. This way, my lord. The castle 's gently render'd : 
The tyrant's people on both sides do fight; 
The noble thanes do bravely in the war; 



126 MACBETH. 

The day almost itself professes yours, 
And little is to do. 

Malcolm. We have met with foes 

That strike beside us. 

Siward. Enter, sir, the castle. 

\Exeun t. Alarum 

Scene VIII. Another Part of the Field. 
Enter Macbeth, 

Macbeth. Why should I play the Roman fool, and die 
On mine own sword ? whiles I see lives, the gashes 
Do better upon them. 

Enter Macduff. 

Macduff. Turn, hell-hound, turn ! 

Macbeth. Of all men else I have avoided thee : 
But get thee back ; my soul is too much charg'd 
With blood of thine already. 

Macduff. I have no words; 

My voice is in my sword, thou, bloodier villain 
Than terms can give thee out ! \They fight. 

Macbeth. Thou losest labour. 

As easy mayst thou the intrenchant air 
With thy keen sword impress as make me bleed : ro 

Let fall thy blade on vulnerable crests ; 
I bear a charmed life, which must not yield 
To one of woman born. 

Macduff. Despair thy charm, 

And let the angel whom thou still hast serv'd 
Tell thee, Macduff was from his mother's womb 
Untimely ripp'd. 

Alacbeth. Accursed be that tongue that tells me so, 
For it hath cow'd my better part of man ! 
And be these juggling fiends no more believ'd, 



ACT V. SCENE VIIL 



12'J 



That palter with us in a double sense ; 20 

That keep the word of promise to our ea/r, 

And break it to our hope. — I '11 not fight with thee. 

Macduff. Then yield thee, coward,^ 
And live to be the show and gaze o' the time : 
We '11 have thee, as our rarer monsters are, 
Painted upon a pole, and underwrit, 
'Here may you see the tyrant.' 

Macbeth. I will not yield, 

To kiss the ground before young Malcolm's feet, 
And to be baited with the rabble's curse. 
Though Birnam wood be come to Dunsinane, 30 

And thou oppos'd, being of no woman born. 
Yet I will try the last. Before my body 
I throw my warlike shield : lay on, Macduff, 
And damn'd be him that first cries ' Hold, enough !' 

\_Exeu7if,Jlghtmg. Alarit 7ns. 

Retreat. Flourish. Enter., 7vith drum and colours., Malcolm, 
old SiWARD, Ross, the other Thanes, and Soldiers. 

Malcolm. I would the friends we miss were safe arriv'd. 

Siward. Some must go off; and yet, by these I see^ 
So great a day as this is cheaply bought. 

Malcolm. Macduff is missing, and your noble son. 

Ross. Your son, my lord, has paid a soldier's debt : 
He only liv'd but till he was a man ; 40 

The which no sooner had his prowess confirm'd 
In the unshrinking station where he fought, 
But like a -man he died. 

Siward. Then he is dead? 

Ross. Ay, and brought off the field : your cause of sorrow 
Must not be measur'd by his worth, for then 
It hath no end. 

Siward, Had he his hurts before? 

Ross. Ay, on the front. 



128 MACBETH. 

Siward. Why then, God's soldier be he ! 

Had I as many sons as I have hairs, 
I would not wish them to a fairer death; 
And so his knell is knoll'd. 

Malcolm. He's worth more sorrow, 5° 

And that I '11 spend for him. 

Siward. He 's worth no more : 

They say he parted well and paid his score ; 
And so God be with him ! Here comes newer comfort. 

Re-enter Macduff, with Macbeth's head. 

Macduff. Hail, king ! for so thou art. Behold, where stands 
The usurper's cursed head ; the time is free. 
I see thee compass'd with thy kingdom's pearl, 
That speak my salutation in their minds ; 
Whose voices I desire aloud with mine : 
Hail, King of Scotland ! 

All. Hail, King of Scotland ! [^Flourish. 

Malcolm. We shall not spend a large expense of time 60 
Before we reckon with your several loves, 
And make us even with you. My thanes and kinsmenj 
Henceforth be earls, the first that ever Scotland 
In such an honour nam'd. What's more to do, 
Which would be planted newly with the time, — 
As calling home our exil'd friends abroad 
That fled the snares of watchful tyranny, 
Producing forth the cruel ministers 
Of this dead butcher and his fiend-like queen, 
Who, as 't is thought, by self and violent hands 7° 

Took off her life, — this, and what needful else 
That calls upon us, by the grace of Grace 
We will perform in measure, time, and place: 
So, thanks to all at once and to each one. 
Whom we invite to see us crown'd at Scone. 

\Flourish. Exeunt. 



NOTES. 



ABBREVIATIONS USED IN THE NOTES. 

Abbott (or Gr.), Abbott's Shakespearian Grammar (third edition). 
A. S., Anglo-Saxon. 

A. v., Authorized Version of the Bible (1611). 

B. and F., Beaumont and Fletcher. 

B. J., Ben Jonson. 

C, Craik's English 0/ Shakespeare (Rolfe's edition). 

Camb. ed., " Cambridge edition" oi Shakespeare, edited by Clark and Wright, 
Cf. {co?tfer), compare. 
Coll., Collier. 

Coll. MS., Manuscript Corrections of Second Folio, edited by^Collier. 
C. P. ed., "Clarendon Press" edition oi Macbeth (Oxford, 1S69). 
D., Dyce. 

F. Q., Spenser's Faerie Queene. 

Furness, "New Variorum" edition o{ Macbeth (Philadelphia, 1873), 
H., Hudson. 

Hen. VIII. (followed by reference \o page), Rolfe's edition oi Henry VI 11. 
Hunter, Joseph Hunter's New Illustrations, etc. (see p. 32, foot-note). 
Id. {idem), the same. 

J. C. (followed by reference to page^, Rolfe's edition of Jnlius Casar. 
J. Hunter, John Hunter's edition oi Macbeth (London. 1869). 
K., Knight. 

Matzner, English Grammar, trans, by Grece (London, ^874). 
Mer., Rolfe's edition of The Merchant of Venice. 
Moberly, C. E. Moberly's edition oi Macbeth (London, 1872). 
Nares, Glossary, edited by HalHwell and Wright (London, 1859). 
Prol., Prologue. 

Rich. II. (followed by reference \.o page), Rolfe's edition of Richard II. 
S., Shakespeare. 

Schmidt, A. Schmidt's Shakespeare-Lexicon (Berlin, 1874). 
Shep. Kal., Spenser's Shepherd' s Kalendar. 
Sr., Singer. 
St., Staunton. 

Temp, (followed by reference io page), Rolfe's edition of The Tempest. 
Theo., Theobald, 
v., Verplanck. 
W., White. 

Walker, Wm. Sidney Walker's Critical Examination of the Text of Shakespeare 
(London, i860). 
Warb., Warburton. 

Weiss, Wit, Humor, and Shakespeare, by John Weiss (Boston, 1876). 
Wb., Webster's Dictionary (revised quarto edition of 1864). 
Wore, Worcester's Dictionary (quarto edition). 

The abbreviations of the names of Shakespeare's Plays will be readily understood ; as 
T. N. for Twelfth Night, Cor. for Coriolanus, 3 He7t. VI. for The Third Part of King 
Henry the Sixth, etc. P. P. refers to The Passiotiate Pilgrim ; V. and A . to Venus 
and Adonis ; L. C. to Lover's Complaint ; and Sonn. to the Sonnets. 



NOTES. 





INTRODUCTION. 

The following extracts from Holinshed contain all the passages re- 
ferred to throughout the play by the various commentators. The text 
here given is that of the edition of 1587, which, as already stated (p. 13), 
was undoubtedly the one that Shakespeare used.* 

"It appears that King Duffe, who commenced his reign 'in the yeare 
after the incarnation 968, as saith Hector Boetius,' treated ' diuers rob- 
bers and pillers of the common people ' in a style which created no small 
offence ; some were executed, and the rest were obliged ' either to get 
them ouer into Ireland, either else to learne some manuall occupation 
wherewith to get their liuing, yea though they were neuer so great gen- 

* For these extracts and the thread of narrative connecting them, we are indebted to 
Mr. Furness's edition oi Macbeth, p. 355 fol. We have added a few explanatory foot- 
notes. 



132 NOTES. 

tlemen borne.' There was therefore great murmuring at such rigorous 
reforms. But, 

" ' In the meane time the king [Duffe] fell into a languishing disease, 
not so greeuous as strange, for that none of his physicians could perceiue 
what to make of it. For there was scene in him no token, that either 
choler, melancholic, flegme, or any other vicious humor did any thing 
abound, whereby his bodie should be brought into such decaie and con- 
sumption (so as there remained vnneth* anie thing vpon him saue skin 
and bone). 

" ' And sithens it appeared manifestlie by all outward signes and to- 
kens, that naturall moisture did nothing faile in the vitall spirits, his 
colour also was fresh and faire to behold, with such liuelines of looks, 
that more was not to be wished for ; he had also a temperat desire and 
appetite to his meate & drinke, but yet could he not sleepe in the night 
time by any prouocations that could be deuised, but still fell into exceed- 
ing sweats, which by no means might be restreined. The physicians per- 
ceiuing all their medicines to want due effect, yet to put him in some 
comfort of helpe, declared to him that they would send for some cunning 
physicians into forreigne parts, who happilie being inured with such kind 
of diseases, should easilie cure him, namelie so soone as the spring of the 
yeare was once come, which of it selfe should helpe much thervnto.' 

" The Chronicle goes on to state that the "king being sicke yet he re- 
garded iustice to be executed,' and that a rebellion which arose was kept 
from his knowledge, ' for doubt of increasing his sicknes.' It then pro- 
ceeds : 

" ' But about that present time there was a murmuring amongst the 
people, how the king was vexed with no naturall sicknesse, but by sor- 
cerie and magicall art, practised by a sort of witches dwelling in a towne 
of Murreyland, called Fores. 

" ' Wherevpon, albeit the author of this secret talke was not knowne : 
yet being brought to the kings eare, it caused him to send foorthwith 
certeine wittie persons thither, to inquire of the truth. They that were 
thus sent, dissembling the cause of their iornie, were receiued in the 
darke of the night into the castell of Fores by the lieutenant of the same, 
called Donwald, who continuing faithfull to the king, had kept that cas- 
tell against the rebels to the kings vse. Vnto him therefore these mes- 
sengers declared the cause of their comming, requiring his aid for the 
accomplishment of the kings pleasure. 

" ' The souldiers, which laie there in garrison had an inkling that 
there was some such matter in hand as was talked of amongst the peo- 
ple ; by reason that one of them kept as concubine a yoong woman, 
which was daughter to one of the witches as his paramour, who told him 
the whole maner vsed by hir mother & other hir companions, with their 
intent also, which was to make awaie the king. The souldier hauing 
learned this of his lemman,t told the same to his fellowes, who made re- 

* Scarcely, hardly. Cf. 2 Hen. VI. ii. 4. 8 : 

" Uneath may she endure the flinty streets 
To tread them with her tender-feeling feet." — {Ed.) 

t Leman ; i. e. mistress, paramour. Cf. T. N. ii. 3. 36 ; ? Heti. IV. v. 3. 49. — {Ed.) 



INTR OD UC TION. 133 

port to Donwald, and hee shewed it to the kings messengers, and ther- 
with sent for the yoong damosell which the souldier kept, as then being 
within the castell, and caused hir vpon streict examination to confesse 
the whole matter as she had scene and knew. Wherevpon learning by 
hir confession in what house in the towne it was where they wrought 
there mischiefous mysterie, he sent foorth souldiers, about the middest 
of the night, who breaking into the house, found one of the 
^' ^' ^^' witches rosting vpon a woodden broch an image of wax at 
the fier, resembling in each feature the kings person, made and deuised 
(as is to be thought) by craft and art of the diuell : an other of them sat 
reciting certeine words of inchantment, and still basted the image with 
a certeine liquor verie busilie. 

" ' The souldiers finding them occupied in this wise, tooke them to- 
gither with the image, and led them into the castell, where being streict- 
lie examined for what purpose they went about such manner of inchant- 
ment, they answered, to the end to make away the king : for as the 
image did waste afore the fire, so did the bodie of the king breake foorth 
in sweat.* And as for the words of inchantment, they serued to keepe 
him still waking from sleepe, so that as the wax euer melted, so did the 
kings flesh : by the which meanes it should haue come to passe, that 
when the wax was once cleane consumed, the death of the king should 
immediatlie follow. So were they taught by euill spirits, and hired to 
worke the feat by the nobles of Murrey land. The standers by, that heard 
such an abhominable tale told by these witches, streightwaies brake the 
image, and caused the witches (according as they had well deserued) to 
bee burnt to death. 

" ' It was said that the king, at the verie same time that these things 
were a dooing within the castell of Fores, was deliuered of his languor, 
and slept that night without anie sweat breaking foorth vpon him at all, 
& the next dale being restored to his strength, was able to doo anie maner 
of thing that lay in man to doo, as though he had not beene sicke before 
anie thing at all. But howsoeuer it came to passe, truth it is, that when 
he was restored to his perfect health, he gathered a power of men, & with 
the same went into Murrey land against the rebels there, and chasing 
them from thence, he pursued them into Rosse, and from Rosse into 
Cathnesse, where apprehending them, he brought them backe vnto Fores, 
and there caused them to be hanged vp, on gallows and gibets. 

" 'Amongest them there were also certeine yoong gentlemen, right 
beautifull and goodlie personages, being neere of kin vnto Donwald cap- 
teine of the castell, and had beene persuaded to be partakers with the 
other rebels, more through the fraudulent counsell of diuerse wicked 
persons, than of their owne accord ; wherevpon the foresaid Donwald 

* So the witch in Theocritus melts a waxen image, and says : 

fS)? TOVtOV TOV KapOV 670) (TVV dulfJiOVt TUKM, 

di? TciKoiO" utt' epoiTos 6 MuvScos auTiKa AeK(pi9. 

Virgil has imitated this in Eel. viii. 80 : 

Limus ut hie durescit, et haec ut cera liquescit 
Uno eodemque igni, sic nostro Daphnis amore. 

Cf. also Horace, Epod. xvii. 76 and Sat. i. 8. 30. — {Ed.) 



134 NOTES. 

lamenting their case, made earnest labor and sute to the king to haue 
begged their pardon ; but hauing a plaine deniall, he conceiued such an 
inward malice towards the king, (though he shewed it not outwardlie at 
the first) that the same continued still boiling in his stomach, and ceased 
not, till through setting on of his wife, and in reuenge of such vnthanke- 
fulnesse, hee found meanes to murther the king within the foresaid cas» 
tell of Fores where he vsed to soiourne. For the king being in that 
countrie, was accustomed to lie most commonlie within the same cas- 
tell, hauing a speciall trust in Donwald, as a man whom he neuer sus- 
pected. 

" ' But Donwald, not forgetting the reproch which his linage had sus- 
teined by the execution of those his kinsmen, whomethe king for a spec- 
tacle to the people had caused to be hanged, could not but shew manifest 
tokens of great griefe at home amongst his familie : which his wife per- 
ceiuing, ceassed not to trauell with him, till she vnderstood what the 
cause was of his displeasure. Which at length when she had learned by 
his owne relation, she as one that bare no lesse malice in hir heart to- 
wards the king, for the like cause on hir behalfe, than hir husband did 
for his friends, counselled him (sith the king oftentimes vsed to lodge in 
his house without anie gard about him, other than the garrison of the 
castell, which was wholie at his commandement) to make him awaie, and 
shewed him the meanes wherby he might soonest accomplish it. 

" ' Donwald thus being the more kindled in wrath by the words of his 
wife, deterniined to follow hir aduise in the execution of so heinous an 
act. Whervpon deuising with himselfe for a while, which way hee might 
best accomplish his curssed intent, at length he gat opportunitie, and 
sped his purpose as followeth. It chanced that the king vpon the dale 
before he purposed to depart foorth of the castell, was long in his oratorie 
at his praiers, and there continued till it was late in the night. At the 
last, comming foorth, he called such afore him as had faithfullie serued 
him in pursute and apprehension of the rebels, and giuing them heartie 
thanks, he bestowed sundrie honorable gifts amongst them, of the which 
number Donwald was one, as he that had beene euer accounted a most 
faithfull seruant to the king. 

" ' At length, hauing talked with them a long time, he got him into his 
priuie chamber, onelie with two of his chamberlains, who hau- 

' ^" ^' ing brought him to bed, came foorth againe, and then fell to 
banketting with Donwald and his wife, who had prepared diuerse deli- 
cate dishes, and sundrie sorts of drinks for their reare supper or colla- 
tion, wherat they sate vp so long, till they had charged their stomachs 
with such full gorges, that their heads were no sooner got to the pillow, 
but asleepe they were so fast, that a man might haue remooued the cham- 
ber ouer them, sooner than to haue awaked them out of their droonken 
sleepe. 

" ' Then Donwald, though he abhorred the act greatlie in his heart, 
yet through instigation of his wife, hee called foure of his seruants vnto 
him (whome he had made priuie to his wicked intent before, and framed 
to his purpose with large gifts) and now declaring vnto them, after what 
sort they should worke the feat, they giadlie obeied his instructions, & 



INTR on UC TION. 



135 



speedilie going about the murther, they enter the chamber (in which the 
king laie) a little before cocks crow, where they secretlie cut his throte as 
he lay sleeping, without anie buskling* at all: and immediatlie by a 
posterne gate they caried foorth the dead bodie into the fields, and throw- 
ing it vpon an horsse there prouided readie for that purpose, they conuey 
it vnto a place, about two miles distant from the castell, where they staled, 
and gat certeine labourers to helpe them to turne the course of a little 
riuer running through the fields there, and digging a deepe hole in the 
chanell, they burie the bodie in the same, ramming it vp with stones and 
grauell so closelie, that setting the water in the right course againe, no 
man could perceiue that anie thing had beene newlie digged there. This 
they did by order appointed them by Donwald as is reported, for that 
the bodie should not be found, & by bleeding (when Donwald should be 
present) declare him to be guiltie of the murther. For such an opinion 
men haue, that the dead corps of anie man being slaine, will bleed abun- 
dantlie if the murtherer be present. But for what consideration soeuer 
they buried him there, they had no sooner finished the work, but that 
they slue them whose helpe they vsed herein, and streightwaies there- 
vpon fled into Orknie. 

" ' Donwald, about the time that the murther was in dooing, got him 
amongst them that kept the watch, and so continued in companie with 
them all the residue of the night. But in the morning when the noise 
was raised in the kings chamber how the king was slaine, his bodie con- 
ueied away, and the bed all beraied with blond ; he with the watch ran 
thither, as though he had knowne nothing of the matter, and breaking 
into the chamber, and finding cakes of bloud in the bed, and on the floore 
about the sides of it, he foorthwith slue the chamberleins, as guiltie of 
that heinous murther, and then like a mad man running to and fro, he 
ransacked euerie corner within the castell, as though it had beene to haue 
scene if he might haue found either the bodie, or anie of the murtherers 
hid in anie priuie place : but at length comming to the posterne gate, 
and finding it open, he burdened the chamberleins, whome he had slaine, 
with all the fault, they hauing the keies of the gates committed to their 
keeping all the night, and therefore it could not be otherwise (said he) 
but that they were of counsell in the committing of that most detestable 
murther. 

" ' Finallie, such was his ouer earnest diligence in the seuere inquisi- 
tion and triall of the offendors heerein, that some of the lords began to 
mislike the matter, and to smell foorth shrewd tokens, that he should 
not be altogither cleare himselfe. But for so much as they were in that 
countrie, where hee had the whole rule, what by reason of his friends and 
authoritie togither, they doubted to vtter what they thought, till time and 
place should better serue therevnto, and heerevpon got them awaie eue« 
rie man to his home. For the space of six moneths togither, after this 
heinous murther thus committed, there appeered no sunne by day, nor 
.. moone by night in anie part of the realme, but still was the skie 

couered with continuall clouds, and sometimes suche outragious 

* Bustling, commotion. — {Ed.) 



136 



NOTES. 



vvindes arose, with lightenings and tempests, that the people were in great 
feare of present destruction.' (pp. 140-^51.)* 

" ' Monstrous sights also that were scene within the Scotish kingdome 

that yeere ' [that is, of King Duffe's murder, A.D. 972] 'were 

11- 4- 15- ti^gsg^ horsses in Louthian, being of singular beautie and swift- 

nesse, did eate their owne flesh, and would in no wise taste anie other 

meate. In Angus there was a gentlewoman brought foorth a 

n. 4. 13- (>]^j](j ^vithout eies, nose, hand, or foot. There was a sparhawke 

also strangled by an owle.' (p. 152.) 

" Thus far the Chronicle of King Dufife supplied Shakespeare with 
some of the details and accessories of his tragedy ; and we now turn to 
the history of the hero himself, Macbeth. But there is one other incident 
recorded by Holinshed, on one of the few intermediate pages of his 
Chronicle, between the stories of King Duffe and Macbeth, which I can- 
not but think attracted Shakespeare's notice as he passed from one story 
to the other, and which was afterward worked up by him in connection 
with Duncan's murder.! As far as I am aware, it has never been noted 
by any editor or commentator. It seems that Kenneth, the brother, and 
one of the successors of Duffe, was a virtuous and able prince, and would 
have left an unstained name had not the ambition to have his son suc- 
ceed him tempted him to poison secretly his nephew Malcome, the son 
of Duff and the heir apparent to the throne. Kenneth then obtained 
from a council at Scone the ratification of his son as his successor. 
'Thus might he seeme happie to all men,' continues Holinshed (p. 158), 
'but yet to himselfe he seemed most vnhappie as he that could not but still 
live in continuall feare, least his wicked practise concerning the death of 
Malcome Dufife should come to light and knowledge of the world. For 
so commeth it to passe, that such as are pricked in conscience for anie 
secret offense committed, haue euer an" vnqu^.et mind.' [What follows, 
suggested, I think, to Shakespeare * the voice,' at ii. 2. 35, that cried 
'sleep r.o more.'] ' And (as the fame goeth) it chanced that a voice Vi^as 
heard as he was in bed in the night time to take his rest, vttering vnto 
him these or the like woords in effect : " Thinke not Kenneth that the 
wicked slaughter of Malcome Duffe by thee contriued, is kept secret from 
the knowledge of the eternall God," &c. . . . The king with this voice 
being striken into gi'eat dread and terror, passed that night without anie 
sleepe comming in his eies.' 

" 'After Malcolme' [that is, ' after the incarnation of our Saviour 1034 
yeeres,'] ' succeeded his nephue Duncane, the sonne of his daughter Bea- 
trice : for Malcolme had two daughters, the one which was this Beatrice, 
being giuen in marriage vnto one Abbanath Crinen, a man of great no- 
bilitie, and thane of the Isles and west part of Scotland, bare of that 
mariage the foresaid Duncane; The other called Doada, was' maried 
vnto Sinell the thane of Glammis, by whome she had issue one 
'• 3- 71- Makbeth a valiant gentleman, and one that if he had not beene 

* These references are to the pages of Holinshed. — {Ed.) 

t The reader will bear in mind (see p. 131, foot-note) that we are quoting Mr. Fumess 
here, and that it is to him that this interesting discovery is due- — {Ed.) 



INTROD UCTION. 



137 



somewhat cruell of nature, might haue beene thought most woorthie the 
gouernement of a realme. On the other part, Duncane was so soft and 
gentle of nature, that the people wished the inclinations and maners of 
these two cousins to haue beene so tempered and enterchangeablie be- 
stowed betwixt them, that where the one had too much clemencie, and 
the other of crueltie, the meane vertue betwixt these two extremities 
might haue reigned by indifferent partition in them both, so should Dun- 
cane haue proued a woorthie king, and Makbeth an excellent capteinCo 
The beginning of Duncans reigne was verie quiet and peaceable, without 
anie notable trouble ; but after it was perceiued how negligent he was in 
punishing offenders, manie misruled persons tooke occasion thereof to 
trouble the peace and quiet state of the common-wealth, by seditious 
commotions which first had their beginnings in this wise. 

" ' Banquho the thane of Lochquhaber, of whom the house of the 
Stewards is descended, the which by order of linage hath now for a long 
time inioied the crowne of Scotland, euen till these our dales, as he 
gathered the finances due to the king, and further punished somewhat 
sharpelie such as were notorious offenders, being assailed by a number of 
rebels inhabiting in that countrie, and spoiled of the monie and all other 
things, had much a doo to get awaie with life, after he had receiued sun- 
drie grieuous wounds amongst them. Yet escaping their hands, after 
hee was somewhat recouered of his hurts and was able to ride, he re- 
paired to the court, where making his complaint to the king in most 
earnest wise, he purchased at length that the offenders were sent for by 
a sergeant at armes, to appeare to make answer vnto such matters as 
should be laid to their charge : but they augmenting their mischiefous 
act with a more wicked deed, after they had misused the messenger with 
sundrie kinds of reproches, they finallie slue him also. 

" ' Then doubting not but for such contemptuous demeanor against 
the kings regal! authoritie, they should be inuaded with all the power the 
king could make, Makdowald one of great estimation among them, mak- 
ing first a confederacie with his neerest friends and kinsmen, tooke vpon 
him to be chiefe capteine of all such rebels, as would stand against the 
king, in maintenance of their grieuous offenses latelie committed against 
him. Manie slanderous words also, and railing tants this Makdowald 
vttered against his prince, calling him a faint-hearted milkesop, more meet 
to gouerne a sort of idle moonks in some cloister, than to haue the rule 
of such valiant and hardie men of warre as the Scots were. He vsed 
also such subtill persuasions and forged allurements, that in a small time 
he had gotten togither a mightie power of men : for out of the westerne 
Isles there came vnto him a great multitude of people, offering 

• 2. 14. t}^giyisg];,gs to assist him in that rebellious quarell, and out of 
Ireland in hope of the spoile came no small number of Kernes and Gal- 
loglasses, offering gladlie to serue vnder him, whither it should please 
him to lead them. 

" ' Makdowald thus hauing a mightie puissance about him, incountered 
with such of the kings people as were sent against him into Lochquha- 
ber, and discomfiting them, by mere force tooke their capteine Malcolme, 
and after the end of the battell smote off his head. This ouerthrow be- 



138 



NOTES. 



ing notified to the king, did put him in woonderfull feare, by reason of 
his small skill in warlike affaires. Calling therefore his nobles to a 
councell, he asked of them their best aduise for the subduing of Mak- 
dowald & other the rebels. Here, in sundrie heads (as euer it happen- 
eth) were sundrie'opinions, which they vttered according to euerie man 
his skill. At length Makbeth speaking much against the kings softnes, 
and ouermuch slacknesse in punishing offendors, whereby they had such 
time to assemble togither, he promised notwithstanding, if the charge 
were committed vnto him and vnto Banquho, so to order the matter, that 
the rebels should be shortly vanquished & quite put downe, and that not 
so much as one of them should be found to make resistance within the 
countrie. 

" ' And euen so it came to passe : for being sent foorth with a new 
power, at his entring into Lochquhaber, the fame of his comming put the 
enimies in such feare, that a great number of them stale secretlie awaie 
from their capteine Makdowald, who neuerthelesse inforced thereto, gaue 
battell vnto Makbeth, with the residue which remained with him : but 
being ouercome, and fleeing for refuge into a castell (within the which 
his wife & children were inclosed) at length when he saw how he could 
neither defend the hold anie longer against his enimies, nor yet vpon 
surrender be suffered to depart with life saued, hee first slue his wife and 
children, and lastlie himselfe, least if he had yeelded simplie, he should 
haue beene executed in most cruell wise for an example to other. Mak- 
beth entring into the castell by the gates, as then set open, found the car- 
casse of Macdowald lieng dead there amongst the residue of the slaine 
bodies, which when he beheld, remitting no peece of his cruell nature 
with that pitifull sight, he caused the head to be cut off, and set vpon a 
poles end, and so sent it as a present to the king who as then laie at 
Bertha. The headlesse trunke he commanded to bee hoong vp vpon an 
high paire of gall owes. 

" ' Them of the westerne Isles suing for pardon, in that they had aided 
Makdowald in his tratorous enterprise, he fined at great sums of moneie : 
and those whome he tooke in Lochquhaber, being come thither to beare 
armor against the -king, he put to execution. Hervpon the Ilandmen 
conceiued a deadlie grudge towards him, calling him a couenant-breaker, 
a bloudie tyrant, & a cruell murtherer of them whome the kings mercie 
had pardoned. With which reprochfull words Makbeth being kindled 
in wrathfull ire against them, had passed ouer v/ith an armie into the 
Isles, to haue taken reuenge vpon them for their liberall * talke, had he 
not beene otherwise persuaded by some of his friends, and partlie paci- 
fied by gifts presented vnto him on the behalfe of the Ilandmen, seeking 
to auoid his displeasure. Thus w-as iustice and law restored againe to 
the old accustomed course, by the diligent means of Makbeth. Imme- 
diatlie wherevpon woord came that Sueno king of Norway was arriued 
in Fife with a puissant armie, to subdue the whole realme of Scotland.' 
(pp. 1 68, 169.) 

* Too free. S. uses it in a similar sense = licentious, wanton. Cf. Much Ado, iv. i. 
93 ; Ham. iv. 7. 171 ; 0th. ii. i. 165, etc. — {Ed.) 



INTRODUCTION. j^^fy 

" ' The crueltie of this Sueno was such, that he neither spared man, 
woman, nor child, of what age, condition or degree soeuer they were. 
Whereof when K. Duncane was certified, lie set all slouthfull and linger- 
ing delaies apart, and began to assemble an armie in most speedie wise, 
like a verie valiant capteine : for oftentimes it happeneth, that a dull 
coward and slouthfull person, constreined by necessitie, becommeth verie 
hardie and actiue. Therefore when his whole power was come togither, 
he diuided the same into three battels. The first was led by 
Makbeth, the second by Banquho, & the king himselfe gouerned 
in the maine battell or middle ward, wherein were appointed to attend 
and wait upon his person the most part of all the residue of the Scotish 
nobilitie. 

" ' The armie of Scotishmen being thus ordered, came vnto Culros, 
where incountering with the enimies, after a sore and cruell foughten 
battell, Sueno remained victorious, and Malcolme with his Scots discom- 
fited. Howbeit the Danes were so broken by this battell, that they were 
not able to make long chase on their enimies, but kept themselues all 
night in order of battell, for doubt least the Scots assembling togither 
againe, might haue set vpon them at some aduantage. On the morrow, 
when the fields were discouered, and that it was perceiued how no eni- 
mies were to be found abrode, they gathered the spoile, which they di- 
uided amongst them, according to the law of amies. Then was it or- 
deined by commandement of Sueno, that no souldier should hurt either 
man, woman, or child, except such as were found with weapon in hand 
readie to make resistance, for he hoped now to conquer the realme with- 
out further bloudshed. 

" ' But when knowledge was giuen how Duncane was fled to the cas- 
tell of Bertha, and that Makbeth was gathering a new power to withstand 
the incursions of the Danes, Sueno raised his tents & comming to the 
said castell, laid a strong siege round about it. Duncane seeing himselfe 
thus enuironed by his enimies, sent a secret message by counsell of Ban- 
quho to Makbeth, commanding him to abide at Inchcuthill, till he heard 
from him some other newes. In the nieane time Duncane fell in fained 
communication with Sueno, as though he would haue yeelded vp the 
castell into his hands, vnder certeine conditions, and this did he to driue 
time, and to put his enimies out of all suspicion of anie enterprise nient 
against them, till all things were brought to passe that might serue for 
the purpose. At length, when they were fallen at a point for rendring 
vp the hold, Duncane offered to send foorth of the castell into 
03- jj^g campe greate prouision of vittels to refresh the armie, which 
offer was gladlie accepted of the Danes, for that they had beene in great 
penurie of sustenance manie dales before. 

" ' The Scots heerevpon tooke the iuice of mekilwoort berries, and 
mixed the same in their ale and bread, sending it thus spiced 

^' ^' ^' & confectioned, in great abundance vnto their enimies. They 
reioising that they had got meate and driiike sufiicient to satisfie their 
bellies, fell to eating and drinking after such greedie wise, that it seemed 
they stroue who might deuoure and swallow vp most, till the operation 
of the berries spread in such sort through all the parts of their bodies, 



140 



NOTES. 



that they were in the end brought into a fast dead sleepe, that in mannei 
it was vnpossible to awake them. Then foorthwith Duncane sent vnto 
Makbeth, commanding him witli all diligence to come and set vpon the 
enimies, being in easje point to be ouercome. Makbeth making no de- 
laie, came with his people to the place where his enimies were lodged, 
and first killing the watch, afterwards entered the campe, aiid made such 
slaughter on all sides without anie resistance that it was a woonderfull 
matter to behold, for the Danes were so heauie of sleepe that the most 
part of them were slaine and neuer stirred : other that were awakened 
either by the noise or other waies foorth, were so amazed and dizzie 
headed vpon their wakening, that they were not able to make anie de- 
fense : so that of the whole number there escaped no more but onelie 
Sueno himselfe and ten other persons, by whose helpe he got to his ships 
lieng at rode in the mouth of Taie. 

" ' The most part of the mariners, when they heard what plentie of 
meate and drinke the Scots had sent vnto the campe, came from the sea 
thither to be partakers thereof, and so were slaine amongst their tellowes : 
by meanes whereof when Sueno perceiued how through lacke of mariners 
he should not be able to conueie awaie his nauie, he furnished one ship 
throughlie with such as were left, and in the same sailed backe into 
Norvvaie, cursing the time that he set forward on this infortunate iournie. 
The other ships which he left behind him, within three dales after his de- 
parture from thence, v/ere tossed so togither by violence of an east wind, 
that beating and rushing one against another, they sunke there, and lie 
in the same place euen vnto these dales, to the great danger of other 
such ships as come on that coast : for being couered with the floud when 
the tide commeth, at the ebbing againe of the same, some part of them 
appeere aboue water. 

" ' The place where the Danish vessels were thus lost, is yet called 
Drownelow sands. This ouerthrow receiued in manner afore said by 
Sueno, was verie displeasant to him and his people, as should appeere, 
in that it was a custome manie yeeres after, that no knights were made 
in Norwaie, except they were first sworne to reuenge the slaughter of 
their countriemen and friends thus slaine in Scotland. The Scots hauing 
woone so notable a victorie, after they had gathered & divided the spoile 
of the field, caused solemne processions to be made in all places of the 
realme, and thanks to be giuen to almightie God, that had sent them so 
faire a day ouer their enimies. But whilest the people were thus at their 
processions, woord was brought that a new fleet of Danes was arriued at 
Kingcorne, sent thither by Canute king of England, in reuenge of his 
brother Suenos ouerthrow. To resist these enimies, which were alreadie 
landed, and busie in spoiling the countrie ; Makbeth and Banquho were 
sent with the kings authoritie, who hauing with them a conuenient 
power, incountred the enimies, slue part of them, and chased the other 
• , to their ships. They that escaped and got once to their ships, 
obteined of Makbeth for a great summe of gold, that such of 
their friends as were slaine at this last bickering, might be buried in 
saint Colmes Inch. In memorie whereof, manie old sepultures are yet 
in the said Inch, there to be scene grauen with the armes of the Danes, 



INTRO D UCTION. I ^ ^ 

as the maner of burieng noble men still is, and heeretofore hath beene 
vsed. 

" ' A peace was also concluded at the same time betwixt the Danes and 
Scotishmen, ratified (as some haue written) in this wise : That from 
thencefoorth the Danes should neuer come into Scotland to make anie 
warres against the Scots by anie maner of meanes. And these were the 
warres that Duncane had with forren enimies, in the seventh yeere of 
his reigne, Shortlie after happened a strange and vncouth woonder, 
which afterward was the cause of much trouble in the realme of Scot- 
land, as ye shall after heare. It fortuned as Makbeth and Banquho 
iournied towards Fores, where the king then laie, they went 
sporting by the waie togither without other companie, saue one- 
lie themselues, passing thorough the woods and fields, when suddenlie in 
the middest of alaund, there met them three women in strange and wild 
apparel], resembling creatures of elder world, whome when they atten- 
tiuelie beheld, woondering much at the sight, the first of them spake and 
said ; All haile Makbeth, thane of Glammis (for he had latelie entered 
. ^ into that dignitie and office by the death of his father Sinell). 
»• 3- 71- 'pj^g second of them said ; Haile Makbeth thane of Cawder. 
But the third said ; All haile Makbeth that heereafter shalt be king of 
Scotland. 

" ' Then Banquho ; What manner of women (saith he) are you, that 
seeme so little fauourable vnto me, whereas to my fellow heere, besides 
high offices, ye assigne also the kingdome, appointing foorth nothing for 
me at all ? Yes (saith the first of them) we promise greater benefits vnto 
thee, than vnto him, for he shall reigne in deed, but with an vnluckie end : 
neither shall he leaue anie issue behind him to succeed in his place, 
where contrarilie thou in deed shalt not reigne at all, but of thee those 
shall be borne which shall gouern the Scotish kingdome by long order 
of continuall descent. Herewith the foresaid women vanished imme- 
diatlie out of their sight. This was reputed at the first but some vaine 
fantasticall illusion by Mackbeth and Banquho, insomuch that 
^' ^' ^^" Banquho would call Mackbeth in iest king of Scotland ; and 
Mackbeth againe would call him in sport likewise, the father of manie 
kings. But afterwards the common opinion was, that these women were 
either the weird sisters, that is (as ye would say) the goddesses of destinicj 
or else some nymphs or feiries, indued with knowledge of prophesie by 
their necromanticall science, bicause euerie thing came to passe as they 
had spoken. For shortlie after, the thane of Cawder being condemned 
at Fores of treason against the king committed ; his lands, liuings, and 
offices were giuen of the kings liberalitie to Mackbeth. 

" ' The same night after, at supper, Banquho iested with him and said ; 
Now Mackbeth thou hast obteined those things which the two former sis- 
ters prophesied, there remaineth onelie for thee to purchase that which the 
third said should come to passe. Wherevpon Mackbeth reuoluing the 
thing in his mind, began euen then to deuise how he might atteine to the 
kingdome : but yet he thought with himselfe that he must tarie a time, 
which should aduance him thereto (by the diuine prouidence) as it had 
come to passe in his former preferment. But shortlie after it chanced 



142 



NOTES. 



that king Duncane, hauing two sonnes by his wife which was 

^' *■ ^' the daughter of Siward earle of Northumberland, he made the 

elder of them called Malcolme prince of Cumberland, as it were thereby 

to appoint him his successor in the kingdome, immediatlie after 

1- 4- 39- j^jg deceasse. Mackbeth sore troubled herewith, for that he saw 
by this means his hope sore hindered (where, by the old lawes of the 
realme, the ordinance was, that if he that should succeed were not of able 
age to take the charge vpon himselfe, he that was next of bloud vnto him 
should be admitted) he began to take counsell how he might vsurpe the 
kingdome by force, hauing a iust quarell so to doo (as he tooke the mat- 
ter) for that Duncane did what in him lay to defraud him of all maner of 
dtle and claime, which he might in time to come, pretend vnto the 
crowne. 

" ' The woords of the three weird sisters also (of whom before ye haue 
heard) greatlie incouraged him herevnto, but speciallie his wife lay sore 
vpon him to attempt the thing, as she that was verie ambitious, burning 
in vnquenchable desire to beare the name of a queene. At length there- 
fore, communicating his purposed intent with his trustie friends, amongst 
whome Banquho was the chiefest, vpon confidence of their promised aid, 
he slue the king at Enuerns, or (as some say) at Botgosuane, in the sixt 
yeare of his reigne. Then hauing a companie about him of such as he 
had made pruiie to his enterprise, he caused himselfe to be proclamed 
king, and foorthwith went vnto Scone, where (by common con- 

"■ ^' ^^' sent) he receiued the inuesture of the kingdome according to the 

accustomed maner. The bodie of Duncane was first conueied vnto El- 

gine, & there buried in kinglie wise ; but afterwards it was remoued and 

conueied vnto Colmekill, and there laid in a sepulture amongst 

1" 4- 34- i^jg predecessors, in the yeare after the birth of our Sauiour, 1046. 
" ' Malcolme Cammore and Donald Bane the sons of king Duncane, 
for feare of their Hues (which they might well know that Mackbeth would 
seeke to bring to end for his more sure confirmation in the estate) fled 
into Cumberland, where Malcolme remained, till time that saint Edward 
the Sonne of Etheldred recouered the dominion of England from the 
Danish povv'er, the which Edward receiued Malcolme by way of most 
friendlie enterteinment : but Donald passed ouer into Ireland, where he 
was tenderlie cherished by the king of that land. Mackbeth, after the 
departure thus of Duncanes sonnes, vsed great liberalitie towards the 
nobles of the realme, thereby to win their fauour, and when he saw that 
no man went about to trouble him, he set his whole intention to main- 
teine iustice, and to punish all enormities and abuses, which had chanced 
through the feeble and slouthfull administration of Duncane.' (pp. 
169-171.) 

" [And so vigorously did Macbeth carry out his reforms, that 'these 
theeues, barrettors, and other oppressors of the innocent people ' . . . 
' were streight waies apprehended by armed men, and trussed vp in hal- 
ters on gibbets, according as they had iustlie deserued. The residue of 
misdooers that were left, were punished and tamed in such sort, that manie 
yeares after all theft and reiffings were little heard of, the people inioieng 
the blissefull benefit of good peace and tranquilitie. Mackbeth shewing 



WTRObUCTION. 143 

himselfe thus a most diligent punisher of all iniuries and wrongs attempted 
by anie disordered persons within his reahiie, was accounted the sure de- 
fense and buckler of innocent people ; and hereto he also applied his 
whole indeuor, to cause yoong men to exercise themselues in vertuous 
maners, and men of the church to attend their diuine seruice according 
to their vocations. 

" ' He caused to be slaine sundrie thanes, as of Cathnes, Sutherlandj, 
Stranauerne, and Ros, because through them and their seditious attempts, 
much trouble dailie rose in the realme.' . . . 'To be briefe, such were 
the woorthie dooings and princelie acts of this Mackbeth in the admin- 
istration of the realme, that if he had atteined therevnto by rightfull 
means, and continued in vprightnesse of iustice as he began, till the end 
of his reigne, he might well haue beene numbred amongest the most no- 
ble princes that anie where had reigned. He made manie holesome 
laws and statutes for the publike weale of his subiects.' [Holinshed here 
' sets foorth according to Hector Boetius ' some of the laws made by 
Macbeth, and for one of them the king certainly deserves a handsome 
notice from some of our most advanced reformers of the present day : 
'The eldest daughter shall inherit hir fathers lands, as well as the eldest 
Sonne should, if the father leave no sonne behind him.'] 

" ' These and the like commendable lawes Makbeth caused to be put 

as then in vse, gouerning the realme for the space often yeares in equall 

iustice. But this was but a counterfet zeale of equitie shewed by him, 

partlie against his natiirall inclination to purchase thereby the fauour of 

the people. Shortlie after, he began to shew what he was, in stead of 

equitie practising crueltie. For the pricke of conscience (as it chanceth 

euer in tyrants, and such as atteine to anie estate by vnrighteous 

means) caused him euer to feare, least he should be serued of 

the same cup as he had ministred to his predecessor. The woords also 

of the three weird sisters would not out of his mind, which as they 

promised him the kingdome, so likewise did they promise it at the same 

time vnto the posteritie of Banquho. He willed therefore the 

■ same Banquho with his sonne named Fleance, to come to a 

supper that he had prepared for them, which was in deed, as he had de- 

uised, present death at the hands of certeine murderers, whom he hired 

to execute that deed, appointing them to meete with the same 

■ Banquho and his sonne without the palace, as they returned 

to their lodgings, and there to slea them, so that he would not haue his 
house slandered, but that in time to come he might cleare himselfe, if 
anie thing were laid to his charge vpon anie suspicion that might arise. 

" ' It chanced yet by the benefit of the darke night, that though the 
father were slaine, the sonne yet by the helpe of almightie God reseruing 
him to better fortune, escaped that danger : and afterwards hauing some 
inkeling (by the admonition of some friends which he had in the court) 
how his life was sought no lesse than his fathers, who was slaine not by 
chancemedlie* (as by the handling of the matter Makbeth woould haue 

* The old law term for manslaughter. Dalton, in his Country Justice (1620), says: 
" Manslaughter, otherwise called chancemedley, is the killing a man feloniously, . . . 
and yet without any malice forethought," etc. — {Ed.) 



144 



A^OT£S. 



had it to appeare), but euen vpon a prepensed deuise : wherevpon to 
auoid further perill he fled into Wales.' (p. 172.) 

" [The old historian here makes a digression in order to ' rehearse the 
originall line of those kings, which haue descended from the foresaid 
Banquho.* It will suffice here to note that (according to Holinshed) 
Fleance's great-grandson Alexander had two sons, from one of whom 
descended ' the earles of Leuenox and Dernlie,' and from the other came 
Walter Steward, who ' maried Margerie Bruce daughter to king Robert 
Bruce, by whome he had issue king Robert the second of that name' 
(p. 173), ' the first ' (says French, Shakespeareana Geiiealogica, p. 291) ' ot 
the dynasty of Stuart, which continued to occupy the throne until the 
son of Mary Queen of Scots, James, tire sixth of the name, was called 
fo the throne of England, as James the First.'] 

" ' But to returne vnto Makbeth, in continuing the historic, and to be- 
gin where I left, ye shall vnderstand that after the contriued slaughter 
of Banquho, nothing prospered with the foresaid Makbeth : for in manei 
euerie man began to doubt his owne life, and durst vnneth appeare in the 
kings presence ; and euen as there were manie that stood in feare of 
him, so likewise stood he in feare of manie, in such sort that he began to 
make those awaie by one surmised cauillation or other, whome bethought 
most able to worke him anie displeasure. 

" ' At length he found such svveetnesse by putting his nobles thus to 
death, that his earnest thirst after bloud in this behalfe might in no wise 
be satisfied : for ye must consider he wan double profite (as hee thought) 
hereby : for first they were rid out of the way whome he feared, and then 
againe his coff"ers were inriched by their goods which were forfeited to 
his vse, whereby he might the better mainteine a gard of armed men 
about him to defend his person from iniurie of them whom he had in 
anie suspicion. Further, to the end he might the more cruellie oppresse 
his subjects with all tyrantlike wrongs, he builded a strong castell on the 
top of an hie hill called Dunsinane, situate in Gowrie, ten males from 
Perth, on such a proud height, that standing there aloft, a man might be- 
hold well neere all the countries of Angus, Fife, Stermond, and Ernedale, 
as it were lieng vnderneath him. This castell then being founded on the 
top of that high hill, put the realme to great charges before it was fin- 
ished, for all the stuff'e necessarie to the building could not be brought 
vp without much toile and businesse. But Makbeth being otice deter- 
mined to haue the worke go forward, caused the thanes of each shire 
within the realme to come and helpe towards that building, each man 
his course about. 

" 'At the last, when the turne fell vnto Makduffe thane of Fife to 
builde his part, he sent workemen with all needfull prouision, and com- 
manded them to shew such diligence in euerie behalfe, that no occasion 
might bee giuen for the king to find fault with him, in that he came not 
himselfe as other had doone, which he refused to doo, for doubt least the 
king bearing him (as he partlie vnderstood) no great good will, would 
laie violent handes vpon him, as he had doone vpon diuerse other. 
Shortly after, Makbeth comming to behold how the worke went forward, 
and bicause he found not Makduffe there, he was sore offended, and said ; 



introduction: 14^ 

I perceiue this man will neuer obeie my commandements, till he be rid- 
-den with a snaffle : but I shall prouide well inough for him. Neither 
could he afterwards abide to looke vpon the said Makduffe, either for 
that he thought his puissance ouer great ; either else for that he had 
learned of certeine wizzards, in wdiose words he put great confidence (for 
that the prophesie had happened so right, which the three faries or 
weird sisters had declared vnto him) how that he ought to take heed of 
Makduffe, who in time to come should seeke to destroie him. 

" ' And suerlie herevpon had he put Makduffe to death, but that a cer- 
teine witch, whome hee had in great trust, had told that he should neuer 
be slaine with man borne of anie woman, nor vanquished till the wood 
J, of Bernane came to the castell of Dunsinane. By this prophesie 

Makbeth put all feare out of his heart, supposing he might doo 
what he would, without anie feare to be punished for the same, for 
by the one prophesie he beleeued it was vnpossible for anie man to 
vanquish him, and by the other vnpossible to slea him. This vaine 
ho^DC caused him to doo manie outragious things, to the greeuous op- 
pression of his subiects. At length Makduffe, to auoid perill of life, pur- 
posed with himselfe to passe into England, to procure Malcolme Cam- 
more to claime the crowne of Scotland. But this was not so secretlie 
deuised by Makduffe, but that Makbeth had knowledge giuen him there- 
of: for kings (as is said) haue sharpe sight like vnto Lynx, and long ears 

like vnto Midas. For Makbeth had in euerie noble mans house 
111. 4. 131. ^^^^ ^^.^ fellow or other in fee with him, to reueale all that was 
said or doone within the same, by which slight he oppressed the most 
part of the nobles of his realme. 

" ' Immediatlie then, being aduertised whereabout Makduffe went, he 
came hastily with a great power into Fife, and foorthwith besieged the 
castell where Makduffe dwelled, trusting to haue found him therein. 
They that kept the house, without anie resistance opened the gates, and 
suffered him to enter, mistrusting none euill. But neuerthelesse Mak- 
beth most cruellie caused the wife and children of Makduffe, with all 
other whom he found in that castell, to be slaine. Also he confiscated 
the goods of Makduffe, proclaimed him traitor, and confined him out of 

all the parts of his realme ; but Makduffe was alreadie escaped 

out of danger, and gotten into England vnto Malcolme Cam- 
more, to trie what purchase hee might make by means of his support 
to reuenge the slaughter so cruellie executed on his wife, his children, 
and other friends. At his comming vnto Malcolme, he declared into 
what great miserie the estate of Scotland was brought, by the detestable 
cruelties exercised by the tyrant Makbeth, hauing committed manie 
horrible slaughters and murders, both as well of the nobles as com- 
mons, for the which he was hated right mortallie of all his liege peo- 
ple, desiring nothing more than to be deliuered of that intollerable and 
most heauie yoke of thraldome, which they susteined at such a caitifes 
hands. 

" ' Malcolme hearing Makdufifcs woords, which he vttered in verie la- 
mentable sort, for meere compassion and verie rufh that pearsed his sor- 
owfull hart, bewailing the miserable state of his countrie, he fetched a 

K 



146 



NOTES, 



deepe sigh ; which Makduffe perceiuing, began to fall most earnestlie in 
hand with him, to enterprise the deliuering of the Scotish people out of 
the hands of so cruell and bloudie a tyrant, as Makbeth by too manie 
plaine experiments did shew himselfe to be : which was an easie matter 
for him to bring to passe, considering not onelie the good title he had, 
but also the earnest desire of the people to haue some occasioned minis- 
tred, whereby they might be reuenged of those notable iiiiuries, which 
they dailie susteined by the outragious crueltie of Makbeths misgouern- 
ance. Though Malcolme was verie sorowfull for the oppression of his 
countriemen the Scots, in maner as Makduffe had declared ; yet doubt- 
ing whether he were come as one that ment vnfeinedlie as he spake, or 
else as sent from Makbeth to betraie him, he thought to haue some 
further triall, and therevpon dissembling his mind at the first, he an- 
swered as followeth. 

' " ' I am trulie verie sorie for the miserie chanced to my countrie of 
Scotland, but though I haue neuer so great affection to relieue the same, 
yet by reason of certeine incurable vices, which reigne in me, I am noth- 
ing meet thereto. First, such immoderate lust and voluptuous sensual- 
itie (the abhominable founteine of all vices) followeth me, that if I were 
made king of Scots, I should seeke to defloure your maids and matrones, 
in such wise that mine intemperancie should be more importable vnto 
you than the bloudie tyrannic of Makbeth now is. Heereunto Makduffe 
answered : this suerly is a verie euill fault, for many noble princes and 
kings haue lost both Hues and kingdomes for the same ; neuerthelesse 
there are women enow in Scotland, and therefore follow my 

IV. 3. 71. (,Q^,-,ggj]^ Make thy selfe king, and I shall conueie the matter so 
wiselie, that thou shalt be so satisfied at thy pleasure in such 

IV. 3- 72. ^yjgg^ that no man shall be aware thereof 

" ' Then said Malcolme, I am also the most auaritious creature on the 
earth, so that if I were king, I should seeke so manie waies to get lands 
and goods, that I would slea the most part of all the nobles of Scotland 
by surmised accusations, to the end I might inioy their lands, goods, and 
possessions ; and therefore to shew ycm what mischiefe may insue on 
you through mine vnsatiable couetousnes, I will rehearse vnto you a fa- 
ble. There was a fox hauing a sore place on him ouerset with a swarme 
of flies, that continuallie sucked out hir bloud : and when one that came 
by and saw this manner, demanded whether she would haue the flies 
driuen beside hir, she answered no : for if these flies that are alreadie 
full, and by reason thereof sucke not verie egerlie, should be chased 
awaie, other that are emptie and fellie * an hungred, should light in their 
places, and sucke out the residue of my bloud farre more to my greeu- 
ance than these, which now being satisfied doo not much annoie me. 
Therefore saith Malcolme, suffer me to remaine where I am, least if I 

* The obsolete adverb corresponding to the adjective_/^//, and = fiercely, cruelly. C£ 
Spenser, F. Q. vi. 11, 48 : 

" How many flyes, in whottest sommers day, . 
Do seize upon soine beast whose flesh is bare. 

That all the place with swarm es dp overlay, » 

And with their litle stings right felly fare," etc. — {Ed!) 



INTROD UCTIOA^. 



147 



atteine to the regiment of your realme, mine inquenchable auarice may 
prooue such ; that ye would thinke the displeasures which now grieue 
you, should seeme easie in respect of the vnmeasurable outrage, which 
might insue through my comming amongst you. 

" ' Makdufife to this made answer, how it was a far woorse fault than 
the other : for auarice is the root of all mischiefe, and for that crime the 
most part of our kings haue beene slaine and brought to their finall end. 
Yet notwithstanding follow my counsell, and take vpon thee the crowne. 
There is gold and riches inough in Scotland to satisfie thy greedie de- 
sire. Then said Malcolme againe, I am furthermore inclined to dissim- 
ulation, telling of leasings,* and all other kinds of deceit, so that I nat- 
urallie reioise in nothing so much, as to betraie & deceiue such as put 
anie trust or confidence in my woords. Then sith there is nothing that 
more becommeth a prince than constancie, veritie, truth, and iustice, with 
the other laudable fellowship of those faire and noble vertues which are 
comprehended onelie in soothfastnesse,t and that lieng vtterlie ouer- 
throweth the same ; you see how vnable I am to gouerne anie prouince 
or region : and therefore sith you haue remedies to cloke and hide all 
the rest of my other vices, I praie you find shift to cloke this vice amongst 
the residue. 

" ' Then said Makduffe : This yet is the woorst of all, and there I leaue 
thee, and therefore sale ; Oh ye vnhappie and miserable Scotishmen, 
which are thus scourged with so manie and sundrie calamities, ech one 
aboue other ! Ye haue one curssed and wicked tyrant that now reigneth 
ouer you, without anie right or title, oppressing you with his most bloudie 
crueltie. This other that hath the right to the crowne, is so replet with 
the inconstant behauiour and manifest vices of Englishmen, that he is 
nothing woorthie to inioy it : for by his owne confession he is not onelie 
auaritious, and giuen to vnsatiable lust, but so false a traitor withall, that 
no trust is to be had vnto anie woord he speaketh. Adieu Scotland, for 
now I account my selfe a banished man for euer, without comfort or con- 
solation : and with those wooi'ds the brackish teares trickled downe his 
cheekes verie abundantlie. 

" ' At the last, when he was readie to depart, Malcolme tooke him by 
the sleeue, and said : Be of good comfort Makdufife, for I haue none of 
these vices before remembred, but haue iested with thee in this manner, 
onelie to prooue thy mind : for diuerse times heeretofore hath Makbeth 
sought by this manner of meanes to bring me into his hands, but the 
more slow I haue shewed my selfe to condescend to thy motion and re- 
quest, the more diligence shall I vse in accomplishing the same. Incon- 
tinentlie heereupon they imbraced ech other, and promising to be faith- 
full the one to the other, they fell in consultation how they might best 
prouide for all their businesse, to bring the same to good effect. Soone 
after, Makduffe repairing to the borders of Scotland, addressed his letters 
with secret dispatch vnto the nobles of the realme, declaring how Mal- 

* Falsehoods. Cf. Spenser, F. ^. ii. 9, 51 : " And all that fained is, as leasings, tales, 
and lies." See also Psalms, iv. 2, v. 6 ; T. N. i. 5. 105 ; Cor. v. 2. 22. — {Ed.) 

t Truthfulness. On sooth = truth, see note on i. 2. 36 below. Cf. shantefastness 
(== modesty), of which our modern sharnefacediiess is a corruption, — {Ed,) 



148 NOTES. 

colme was confederat with him, to come hastilie into Scotland to claime 
the crowne, and therefore he required them, sith he was right inheritor 
thereto, to assist him with their powers to recouer the same out of the 
hands of the wrongfull vsurper. 

" ' In the meane time, Malcolme purcliased such fauor at king Ed- 
wards hands, that old Siward earle of Northumberland, was appointed 
with ten thousand men to go with him into Scotland, to support him in 
this enterprise, for recouerie of his right. After these newes were spread 
abroad in Scotland, the nobles drew into two seuerall factions, the one 
taking part with Makbeth, and the other with Malcolme. Heereupon 
insued oftentimes sundrie bickerings, & diuerse light skirmishes : for those 
that were of Malcolmes side, would not leopard to ioine with their eni- 
mies in a jDight* field, till his comming out of England to their support. 
But after that Makbeth perceiued his enimies power to increase, by such 
aid as came to them foorth of England with his aduersarie Malcolme, he 
recoiled backe into Fife, there purposing to abide in campe fortified, at 
the castell of Dunsinane, and to fight with his enimies, if they ment to 
pursue him ; howbeit some of his friends aduised him, that it should be 
best for him, either to make some agreement with Malcolme, or else to 
flee with all speed into the lies, and to take his treasure with him, to the 
end he might wage t sundrie great princes of the realme to take his part, 
& reteine strangers, in whome he might better trust than in his owne 
subiects, which stale dailie from him: but he had such confi- 
dence in his prophesies, that he beleeued he should neuer be 
vanquished, till Birnane wood were brought to Dunsinane ; nor yet to 
be slaine with anie man, that should be or was borne of anie woman. 
" 'Malcolme following hastilie after Makbeth, came the night before 
the battell vnto Birnane wood, and when his armie had rested 
a while there to refresh them, he commanded euerie man to get 
a bough of some tree or other of that wood in his hand, as big as he 
might beare, and to march foorth therewith in such wise, that on the next 
morrow they might come closelie and without sight in this manner with- 
in viewe of his enimies. On the morrow when Makbeth beheld them 
comming in this sort, he first maruelled what the matter ment, but in the 
end remembered himselte that the prophesie which he had heard long 
before that time, of the comming of Birnane wood to Dunsinane castell, 
was likelie to be now fulfilled. Neuerthelesse, he brought his men in 
order of battell, and exhorted them to doo valiantlie, howbeit his enimies 
had scarsely cast from them their boughs, when Makbeth perceiuing their 
numbers, betooke him streict to flight, whom Makduffe pursued with great 
hatred euen till he came vnto Lunfannaine, where Makbeth perceiuing 
that Makduffe was hard at his backe, leapt beside his horsse, saieng; 

* Pitched. Cf. T. and C. v. lo. 24 : 

" You vile abominable tents, 
Thus proudly pight upon our Phrygian plains." — {Ed.) 

t Hire, bribe, Cf. Cor. v. 6. 40 : 

" I seem'd his follower, not partner, and 
He wag'd me with his countenance, as if 
J had been mercenary. "^(^ of.) 



INTR OD UCTION. 



149 



Thou traitor, what meaneth it that thou shouldest thus in vaine follow 
me that am not appointed to be slaine by anie creature that is borne of 
a woman, come on therefore, and receiue thy reward which thou hast de- 
serued for thy paines, and therwithall he lifted vp his swoord thinking to 
haue slaine him. 

" 'But Makdufife quicklie auoiaing* from his horsse, yer he came at 
him, answered (with his naked swoord in his hand) saieng : It is true 
Makbeth, and now shall thy insatiable crueltie haue an end, for I am 
euen he that thy wizzards haue told thee of, who was neuer borne of my 
mother, but ripped out of her wombe : therewithal! he stept vnto him, 
and slue him in the place. Then cutting his head from his shoulders, he 
set it vpon a pole, and brought it vnto Malcolme. This was 
■ ^^' the end of Makbeth, after he had reigned 17 yeeres ouer the 
Scotishmen. In the beginning of his reigne he accomplished manie 
woorthie acts, verie profitable to the common-wealth, (as ye haue heard) 
but afterward by illusion of the diuell, he defamed the same with most 
terrible crueltie. He was slaine in the yeere of the incarnation 1057, and 
in the 16 yeere of king Edwards reigne ouer the Englishmen. 

" * Malcolme Cammore thus recouering the relme (as ye haue heard) 
by support of king Edward, in the 16 yeere of the same Edwards reigne, 
he was crowned at Scone the 25 day of Aprill, in the yeere of our Lord 
1057. Immediatlie after his coronation he called a parlement at Forfair, 
in the which he rewarded them with lands and linings that had assisted 
him against Makbeth, aduancing them to fees and offices as he saw cause, 
& commanded that speciallie those that bare the surname of anie offices 
or lands, should haue and inioy the same. He created manie earles, 
lords, barons, and knights. Manie of them that before were thanes, were 
at this time made earles, as Fife, Menteth, Atholl, Leuenox, 
^' Murrey, Cathnes, Rosse, and Angus. These were the first 
earles that haue beene heard of amongst the Scotishmen, (as their histo- 
ries doo make mention.) ' (pp. 174-176.) 

" In the ' fift Chapter ' of ' the eight Booke of the historic of England,' 
Shakespeare found the account of young Siward's death (v. 7.) : 

*' ' About the thirteenth yeare of king Edward his reigne (as some 
write) or rather about the nineteenth or twentith yeare, as should ap- 
peare by the Scotish writers, Siward the noble earle of Northumberland 
with a great power of horssemen went into Scotland, and in battell put 
to flight Mackbeth that had vsurped the crowne of Scotland, and that 
doone, placed Malcolme surnamed Camoir, the sonne of Duncane, some- 
time king of Scotland, in the gouernement of that realme, who afterward 
slue the said Mackbeth, and then reigned in quiet. Some of our English 
writers say that this Malcolme was king of Cumberland, but other report 
him to be sonne to the king of Cumberland. But heere is to be noted, 
that if Mackbeth reigned till the yeare 1061, and was then slaine by Mal- 
colme, earle Siward was not at that battell ; for as our writers doo testi- 



* Withdrawing, dismounting. Cf. W. T. i. 2. 462: "Let us avoid;" Cor. iv. 5. 34; 
"here's no place for you ; pray you, avoid." See also i Sunt, xviii. 11. — {Ed.') 



I50 



NOTES. 



fie, he died in the yeare 1055, which was in the yeare next after {as the 
same writers affirme) that he vanquished Mackbeth in fight, and slue 
manie thousands of Scots, and all those Normans which (as ye haue 
heard) were withdrawen into Scotland, when they were driuen out of 
England. 

" ' It is recorded also, that in the foresaid battel!, in which earle Siward 
vanquished the Scots, one of Siwards sonnes chanced to be slaine, where- 
of although the father had good cause to be sorowfull, yet when he heard 
that he died of a wound which he had receiued in fighting stoutlie in the 
forepart of his bodie, and that with his face towards the enimie, he great- 
lie reioised thereat, to heare that he died so manfullie. But here is to be 
noted, that not now, but a little before (as Henrie Hunt, saith) that earle 
Siward went into Scotland himselfe in person, he sent his sonne with an 
armie to conquere the land, whose hap was there to be slaine ; and when 
his father heard the newes, he demanded whether he receiued the wound 
whereof he died, in the forepart of the bodie, or in the hinder part : and 
g when it was told him that he receiued it in the forepart; I re- 
ioise (saith he) euen with all my heart, for I would not wish 
either to my sonne nor to my selfe any other kind of death.' " 




KING MALCOLM S GRAVESTONE, AT GLAMiS, 



ACT I. SCENE I. 




ACT I. 

Scene I. — i. Delius remarks (cf. Gr. 504) that this trochaic metre 
is elsewhere used by S. when supernatural beings are speaking ; as in 
Temp, and M. N. D. 

The folios put an interrogation mark at the end of the first line. 

3. Hurly-burly, Doubtless an onomatopoetic word, as Peacham ex- 
plained it in the Garden of Eloquence in 1577 : " Onomatopeia, when we 
invent, devise, fayne, and make a name intimating the sound of that it 
signifyeth, as hurlybtirly, for 2i\\iiprore and tumulHwus stirre.'''' Hulla- 
baloo (which is not in Wb., though given by Wore, and Wedgwood) is 
probably a related word. S. uses hurlyhirly only here and in i Hen. IV. 
v. I. 78, where it is an adjective. He has hurly in the same sense in T. 
of S. iv. I. 216 : " amid this hurly ;" K. John, iii. 4. 169 : " Methinks I see 
this hurly all on foot;" and 2 Hen. IV. iii. i. 25 : "That with the hurly 
death itself awakes." 

Cf. Latimer (sermon preached in 1550) : "the chiefest cause of all this 
hurlyburly and commotion ;" North's Plutarch {Fabius) : " A marvellous 
tumult and hurlyburly ;" Spenser, F. Q. v. 3, 30 : 



' Thereof great hurly-burly moved was 
Throughout the hall for that same warlike horse." 



19 



5. Set of sun. The C. P. ed, cites Rich. III. v. 3 
hath made a golden set." 

3. Grayinalkin. Also spelled Grimalkin ; it means a gray cat 



" The weary sun 
Mai- 



152 NOTES. 

kin is a diminutive of Mary^ and, like matikin (or maxvkin) which is 
the same word, is often used as a common noun and contemptuously 
(=:kitchen-wench) ; as in Cor. ii. i. 224; Per. iv. 3. 34. Cf. Tennyson, 
Princess, v. : "a draggled mawkin." Malkin is the name of one of the 
witches in Middleton's Witch. 

9. Paddock. A toad. R. Scot [Discovery of Witchcraft, 1584) says : 
" Some say they [witches] can keepe divels and spirits in the likenesse 
of todes and cats." Cf. Ham. iii. 4. igo. 

The word sometimes means a frog ; as in the North of England, ac- 
cording to Goldsmith. Cf Chapman, Ccesar and Ponipcy (1607) : " Pad- 
dockes, todes, and watersnakes." In New England "bull-paddock" is 
a popular synonym for bull-frog. 

10. Anon. Presently, immediately : "especially by waiters, instead of 
the modern 'coming'" (Schmidt). Cf. I Hen. IV. ii. i. 5 ; ii. 4. 29,36, 
41, 49, 58, etc. 

11. Fair is foul, etc. "The meaning is, that to ns, perverse and ma- 
lignant as we 3.\'e,fair is foitl, and font is fair ^'' (Johnson). Cf. Spenser, 
F. Q. iv. 8. 32 : "Then faire grew foule, and foule grew faire in sight." 

Scene II. — The C. P. editors believe that this scene was not written 
by S. They remark : " Making all allowance for corruption of text, the 
slovenly metre is not like Shakespeare's work, even when he is most care- 
less. The bombastic phraseology of the sergeant is not like Shake- 
speare's language even when he is most bombastic. What is said of the 
thane of Cawdor, lines 52, 53, is inconsistent with what follows in scene 
iii. lines 72, 73, and 112 sqq. We may add that Shakespeare's good 
sense would hardly have tolerated the absurdity of sending a severely 
wounded soldier to carry the news of a victory." 

On this last point Mr. Furnivall {Tra7is. IVew Shaks. Soc. 1874, p. 499) 
says: "Mr. Daniel has already answered this by showing (i.) that the 
sergeant is not sent ; (2.) that no victory had been won when he left the 
field ; (3.) that the man sent with news of the victory was Ross ; (4.) that 
the wounded sergeant was only met by Duncan, etc." Cf. Weiss, p. 364. 

I. Bloody. Bodenstedt (cited by Furness) remarks that " this word 
bloody reappears on almost every page, and runs like a red thread through 
the whole piece ; in no other of Shakespeare's dramas is it so frequent." 

3. Sergeant. Here a trisyllable. Gr. 479. In the stage direction of the 
folio we find "a bleeding Captaine,^' but " Serieant " m this line of the 
text 

5. Hail. Metrically equivalent to a dissyllable (Gr. 484). 

6. Say . . . the knowledge. Tell what you know. 6Vz)/ often = tell. Cf. 
Cyrnb. iv. 2. 376 : "say his name ;" C. of E. i. i. 29 : "say, in brief, the 
cause," etc. 

Broil. Battle ; as often in S. Cf. i Hen, IV. i. i. 3, 47 ; Cor. iii. 2. 
81 ; 0th. i. 3. 87, etc. 

7. On the measure, see Gr. 506. 

9, Choke their art. " That is, drown each other by rendering their 
skill in swimming useless " (C. P. ed.). Cf. Mark, v. 13, 



ACT I. SCENE II. 



153 



Macdonwald. The reading of ist folio ; the others have " Macdon- 
nel." Holinshed calls him " MacDowald." 

10. To that. To that end. Gr. 186. " His multiplied villainies fit 
him for that rebel's trade" (Moberly). 

11. Mr. Fleay thinks that this line is Shakespeare's, retained by Mid- 
dleton when he substituted this scene for the original one. 

13. Of kerns and gallowglasses. (9/"=with; as often. See Gr. 171. 
Kerns were light-armed soldiers. See Rich. II. p. 175, note on Rug- 
headed kerns. Gallowglasses were heavy-armed troops. Cf. 2 Hen. VI. 
iv. 9. 26 : " Of gallowglasses and stout kerns." S. takes both words from 
Holinshed (see p. 137). Cf. v. 7. 17 below. See also Drayton, Heroical 
Epist. : 

*' Bruce now shall bring his Redshanks from the seas, 

From the isled Oreads and the Hebrides ; 

And to his western havens give free pass 

To land the Kerne and Irish Galliglasse. " 

. 14. Quarrel. Johnson's emendation for the "quarry" of the early 
eds. As the word occurs in Holinshed's relation of this very fact, it is 
probably the right one, but many editors retain quarry. K. says : " We 
have it in the same sense in Cor. i. i. 202; the 'damned quarry' being 
the doomed army of kerns and gallowglasses, who, although Fortune de- 
ceitfully smiled on them, fled before the sword of Macbeth and became 
his quarry — his prey." 

For quarrel in this sense ( =carise or occasion of a quarrel) cf. Bacon> 
Essay 8 : " So as a Man may have a Quarrell to marry, when he will ;" 
Latimer, Serjnon on Christmas Day : "to live and die in God's quarrel," 
etc. Cf. iv. 3. 137 : "our warranted quarrel." 

15. Show d. Appeared. Cf. M. of V. iv. i. 196 : 

"And earthly power doth then show likest God's 
When mercy seasons justice." 

" The meaning is that Fortune, while she smiled on him, deceived him" 
(Malone). 

19. Minion. Favourite, darling. It is the French inignon. Cf. Temp. 
iv. I. 98 : " Mars's hot minion ;" and see note. Temp. p. 136. 

21. Which. As D. remarks, if this is the right word, it is equivalent to 
who. Gr. 265. Probably there is some corruption of the text. Capell's 
emendation of " And ne'er " is adopted by Sr. and D. (2d ed.). " As the 
text stands, the meaning is, Macdonwald did not take leave of, nor bid 
farewell to, his antagonist till Macbeth had slain him " (C. P. ed.). 

22. Nave. Navel. Warb. suggested "nape." Steevens cites Nash, 
Dido (1594) : " Then from the navel to the throat at once He ript old 
Priam." 

24. Cousin. Macbsth and Duncan were both grandsons of King Mal- 
colrn, 

25. Gins. The ist folio has " 'gins " here (and " 'gin " in v. 5. 49), the 
other folios " gins." In every other instance in which gins or gan occurs 
in the ist folio ( Temp. iii. 3. 106 ; Cor. ii. 2. 119 ; 2 Hen. IV. \. 1. 129 ; Ham. 
i. 5. 90; Cymb. ii. 3. 22, v. 3. 37, v. 5. 197) the apostrophe is omitted. 
Nares says, under gin : " Usually supposed to be a contraction of begin^ 



154 



NOTES. 



but shown by Mr. Todd to be the original word." Schmidt also gives if 
as a complete word, and recognizes can in Z. L. L. iv. 3. 106 as its past 
tense — an old form which Spenser sometimes uses. Abbott (Gr. 460) 
does not give ^gm in his list of words in which prefixes are dropped 
(though he gives some words that ought not to be there, as ^^/=beget, 
haviour, //«?« = complain, tend =2iitQ\\d, etc.), nor does he refer any in- 
stance oi gin ox gan to § 460 in his " Index of Quotations." Richardson, 
in his Did., says : '* Gin, and the pret. ^a«, are in common use with oui 
old writers without the prefix be ;" and one of his examples (Hakluyt's 
Voyages, vol. i. p. 187: "Therefore I ginne to wryte now of the see") 
proves that the word had not ceased to be used, even in prose, in the 
time of S. The editors often confound these obsolete simple words with 
contractions of their compounds now in use. See Temp. p. 118 (note on 
Hests), Mer. p. 153 (note on Bated), J. C. p. 182 (note on Now some light), 
and Rich. II. p. 162 (note on Havioitr). 

On the general meaning of this passage, Sr. says : "The allusion is to 
the storms that prevail in spring, at the vernal equinox — the equinoctial 
gales. The beginning of the reflection of the sun (cf. ' So from that 
spring ') is the epoch of his passing from the severe to the mildest sea- 
son, opening, however, with storms." The C. P. ed. explains it thus : 
" As thunder and storms sometimes come from the East, the quarter 
from which we expect the sunrise, so out of victory a new danger arises." 

31. Norweyan. The spelling of the folio, as in line 52 and i. 3. 95 below. 
Surveying vantage. Perceiving his opportunit)'-. The phrase is used 

in a different sense in Rich. III. v. 3. 15 : " Let us survey the vantage of 
the field." 

32. Furbish'' d. Burnished ; that is, not before used in the fight, not 
yet stained with blood. 

34. Captains. A trisyllable here. Gr. 477, 506. 

36. Sooth. Truth. See foot-note, p. 147, and cf v. 5. 40 below. 

37. Cracks. Charges ; an example of metonymy, the effect being put 
for the cause. For crack^vepovt, cf Temp. i. 2. 203 and T. of A. ii. i, 3. 
Malone quotes the old play of King John (1591) : " the echo of a can- 
non's crack." 

38. So they. The C. P. editors prefer to put these words at the end of 
the preceding line. Sr. and D., following Steevens and Malone, make 
them a separate line. 

On doubly redoubled, cf Rich. II. i. 3. 80. 

40. Me7norize. Make memorable, render famous. The. meaning is, 
^^ make another Golgotha, which should be celebrated and delivered down 
to posterity with as frequent mention as the first" (Heath). Halliweil 
cites Vicars, Trans, of Virgil (1632) : 

" Though Grecian seas or shores me captiv'd quel'd 
With annual votes and due solemnities, 
And altar-decking gifts, I'd memorize." 

Cf also Hen. VIII. iii. 2. 52. For Go'gotha, see Mark, xv. 22. 

41. I cannot tell. J. Hunter explains this as=" I know not what to 
say or think of it," and cites T. of S. iv. 3. 22 ; 'II cannot tell : I fear 'tis 
choleric," On the measure, see Gr. 511. 



ACT I. SCENE II. 155 

43, So well. We should say, as well. See Gr. 275, 

45. Thane, "An Anglo-Saxon nobleman, inferior in rank to an eorl 
and ealdorman " (Bosworth). See Wb. 

46. A haste. The reading of the ist folio; the other folios omit "a." 
So should he look, etc. On should, see Gr. 323. The meaning is, " So 

should he look that appears to be on the point of speaking things strange " 
(Heath), or " whose appearance corresponds with the strangeness of his 
message" (C. P. ed.). Teems, comes, seeks, and deems have been need- 
lessly suggested in place oi seems. Cf. Rich. II. iii. 2. 194-197. 

49. Flotit Mock. Malone quotes IC. John, v. i. 72 : " Mocking the 
air with colours idly spread ;" and adds : " The meaning seems to be, 
not that the Norweyan banners proudly insulted the sky ; but that, the 
standards being taken by Duncan's forces, and fixed in the ground, the 
colours idly flapped about, serving only to cool the conquerors, instead 
of being proudly displayed by their fiormer possessors." But, as the C. 
P. ed. suggests, " ' flout the sky ' seems better suited to the banners of a 
triumphant or defiant host." Flout must then be a historic present. 
Keightley reads : 

" Where the Norweyan banners 
Did flout the sky and fan our people cold." 

51. Pope reads " With numbers terrible." 

53. Cawdor. Cawdor Castle is about five miles south of Nairn and 
about fifteen from Inverness. The royal license to build it was granted 
by James II. in 1454. There is a tradition that a " wise man " counselled 
the Thane of Cawdor to load an ass with a chest full of gold, and to use 
the money in building a castle at the third hawthorn tree at which the 
beast should stop. The advice was followed, and the castle built round 
the tree, the trunk of which is still shown in the basement of the tower. 
The castle is still in excellent preservation, being used as a summer 
residence by the Earl of Cawdor. 

54. Till that. On that as " a conjunctional affix," see Gr. 287. 
Bellond's bridegroom. We have no doubt that S. means to compare 

Macbeth to Mars (cf Rich. II. ii. 3. 100 : " the Black Prince, that young 
Mars of men "), though Mars was not the husband of Bellona. Perhaps, 
as the C. P. ed. remarks, the expression may have been suggested by 
an imperfect recollection of Virgil, ^«. vii. 319: " Et Bellona manet te 
pronuba." Holinshed, though not in this connection, refers to " the 
goddesse of battell, called Bellona." 

lapped in proof. Clad in arrhour of proof. Cf. Cymb. v. C. 360 : 
" lapp'd In a most curious mantle ;" and Rich. II. i. 3. 73 : " Ada JDroof 
unto mine armour with thy prayers " (see note in our ed.). 

55. Confronted him, etc. " That is, gave him as good as he brought, 
showed he was his equal " (Warb.). Him refers to Norway. 

56. The folio has " Point against Point, rebellious Arme 'gainst Arme," 
and many editors retain that pointing. Rebellious must in that case be 
= opposing, resisting. Theo. was the first to transpose the comma, giv- 
ing rebellious the meaning it almost invariably has in S. 

57. Lavish. Unrestrained, insolent. Cf. 2 i%;z. /K iv. 4. 62 : "lavish 
manners;" and i Hen. VI. ii. 5. 47 : "his lavish tongue." 



156 



NOTES. 



58. That now. On the omission of j-^*, see Gr. 283. Cf. i. 7. 8 ; ii. 2. 7 ; 
ii. 2. 23 ; iv. 3. 6; iv. 3. 82. 

59. Nor'ways\ Norwegians'. See Gr. 433. 

Composition. Terms of peace. Cf M. for M. i. 2. 2 : " If the duke 
with the other dukes come not to composition with the king of Hungary, 
why then all the dukes fall upon the king." 

61. Saint Colme's Inch. The Island of St. Columba, now Inchcolm, 
an islet in the Firth of Forth, about two miles south of Aberdour. Here 
are the remains of a monastery founded in 1123 by Alexander II., who 
had been driven on the island by stress of weather. There is also an 
oratory of rude construction, probably as old as the 9th century. St. 
Columba is said to have resided here for a time ; but the island must 
not be confounded with Colmes-kill, Icolmkill, or lona, ^//^ Island of St. 
Columba, on the west coast of Scotland, where "the gracious Duncan" 
(see ii. 4. 33 below) was laid beside his royal predecessors. 

Inch (the Gaelic inis, island) is found in the names of many Scotch 
islands, as Inchkeith, Inchkenneth, Inchmurrin, Inchcruin, Clairinch, 
Torrinch, Bucinch, etc. 

62. Dollars. Of course, an anachronism (as the C. P. ed. points out), 
the thaler, or dollar, having been first coined about 15 18, in the Valley of 
St. Joachim, Bohemia. Thaler is probably derived from thai, valley. 

64. Bosom interest. " Close and intimate affection " (C. P. ed.). Cf 
M. of V. iii. 4. 17 : " bosom lover." S'chmidt explains interest here as = 
concern, advantage. On the measure, see Gr. 501. 

Present. Immediate. Cf. J. C. ii. 2. 5 : " Go bid the priests do pres- 
ent sacrifice;" 2 Hen. IV. iv. 3. 80: "To York, to present execution." 
So presently = m?X2LvX\^ ; as in M. of V. i. i. 183: "Go presently in- 
quire." See another example in the next note below. 

Scene III. — 2. " Witches seem to have been most suspected of malice 
against swine. Dr. Harsnet observes that, about that time, a sow could 
not be sick of the measles, nor a girl of the sullens, but some old woman 
was charged with witchcraft " (Johnson). Steevens cites A Deteciioji of 
Damnable Driftes practized by Three Witches, etc, (1579) : "she came on 
a tyme to the house of one Robert Lathburie, . . . who, dislyking her 
dealyng, sent her home emptie ; but presently after her departure, his 
hogges fell sicke and died, to the number of twentie," 

5. Give me. For the omission of the direct object, cf R. and J. iv. i. 
121 : " Give me, give me !" 

6. Aroint thee. Cf Lear, iii. 4. 129 : " Aroint thee, witch, aroint thee !" 
The meaning is evidently "Away with thee!" but the derivation of 
aroint has been much disputed. Several authorities state that " Rynt 
thee !" or "'Roint thee !" is still used in Cheshire, chiefly by milkmaids 
in bidding a cow get out of the way. See Nares and Wb. In an old 
drawing representing the " Harrowing of Hell," Christ is in the act of 
releasing various souls from the mouth of the pit, w^hile the appointed 
custodian appears to be blowing a horn as a signal of alarm; above his 
head is the legend, "Out out aroynt." The 3d and 4th folios have 
"Anoynt," which Johnson approved as consistent with the "common 



ACT I. SCENE III. 



157 



account of witches, who are related to perform many supernatural acts by 
means of unguents, and particularly to fly to their hellish festivals." 

Riinip-fed. According to Colepepper this means fed on offal (kidneys, 
rumps, and other scraps being among the low perquisites of the kitchen 
given away to the poor) ; but more likely it means well-fed : " she fed 
on best joints, 1 hungry and begging for a chestnut" (Moberly). Nares 
(endorsed by Schmidt) thinks it means "fat-rumped." 

Roiiyoii. " A scabby or mangy woman." See Wb. The word is used 
again in M. W. iv. 2. 195. 

7. Aleppo. From this place there was a large caravan trade to Ispa- 
han, Bussora, and Damascus. In Hakluyt's Voyages (1589) there are ac- 
counts of a voyage made to Aleppo by the ship Tiger of London, in 1583. 
Cf. T. N. V. I. 65 : " And this is he that did the Tiger board." 

8. A sieve. A favourite craft with witches. vSir W. Davenant says, 
in his Albovine (1629) : " He sits like a witch sailing in a sieve." Steev- 
ens quotes Newes from Scotland, or the damnable Life of Dr. Eian, a 
notable Sorcerer, etc., wherein it is told how sundry witches "went to 
sea, each one in a riddle or cive." 

9. Withottt a tail. It was believed that a witch could take the form of 
any animal, but that the tail would be wanting. According to Sir F. 
Madden, one distinctive mark of a werwolf, or human being changed to 
a wolf, was the absence of a tail, 

10. /'// do. " She threatens, in the shape of a rat, to gnaw through 
the hull of the Tiger and make her spring a leak" (C. P. ed.). 

11. Steevens remarks that this free gift of a wind is to be considered 
as an act of sisterly friendship, for witches were supposed to sell them. 
Cf. Sumner's Last Will and Testament (1600) : 

"in Ireland and Denmark both, 
Witches for gold will sell a man a wind, 
Which, in the corner of a napkin wrap' d, 
Shall blow him safe unto what coast he will." 

The C. P. ed. quotes Drayton, Moon- Calf, line 865 : 

" She could sell winds to any one that would 
Buy them for money, forcing them to hold 
What time she listed, tie them in a thread, 
Which ever as the seafarer undid, 
They rose or scantled, as his sails would drive, 
To the same port whereas he would arrive." 

14. Other. See Gr. 12. 

15. And the very ports they blow. That is, /<? which they blow. John- 
son wished to read " various " for very, and Pope " points " for ports. 
The C. P. editors think that " orts " for ports " seems still more prob- 
able." 

17. The shipman's card. The card of the compass. Some explain it 
as = chart. Halliwell quotes The Loyal Subject: 

" The card of goodness in your minds, that shews ye 
When ye sail false ; the needle touch'd with honour. 
That through the blackest storms still points at happiness," etc. 

Cf. also Pope, Essay on Man, ii. 108 : 



158 



NOTES. 



" On life's vast ocean diversely we sail, 
Reason the card, but passion is the gale." 

For shipman, cf. T. and C. v. 2. 172 ; also i Kings, ix. 27 and Acts, xxvii. 

27,30 

20. Pent-house lid. Malone cites Decker, GtilVs Horne-Booke:^ "Ihe 
two eyes are the glasse windowes, at which light disperses itself into ev- 
ery roome, having goodlie pent-houses of haire to overshaddow them." 
Cf. also Drayton, David and Goliath : 

" His brows, like two steep pent-houses, hung down 
Over his ej'elids." 

21. Forbid. Under a ban, or accursed. 

22. 2j. Probably suggested by Holinshed's account of the bewitching 
of King Duffe (see p. 133). 

32. Weird. The folios have "weyward." Theo. substituted weird, 
which is Holinshed's word. " The weird sisters " is Gawin Douglas's 
translation of Virgil's " Parcae." For the derivation oi weird, see Wb. 
For the dissyllabic pronunciation of the word, see Gr. 485 ; and cf. ii. i. 
20, iii. 4. 133, and iv. i. 136. 

33. Posters. " Speedy travellers " (Schmidt), 

34. As the C. P. editors remark, the witches here take hold of hands 

and dance round in a ring nine times, three rounds for each witch, as a 

charm for the furtherance of their purposes. Multiples of three and 

nine were specially affected by witches, ancient and modern. See Ovid, 

Met. xiv. 58 : 

" Ter novies carmen magico demurmurat ore ;" 

and vii. 1 89-191 : 

" Ter se convertit ; ter sumptis flumine crinem 
Irroravit aquis ; ternis ululatibus ora 
Solvit." 

38. Fonl and fair. Perhaps referring to the sudden change in the 
weather, brought about by witchcraft ; perhaps, as Elvvin explains it, 
"/"fz// with regard to the weather, andy^?/r with reference to his victory." 

According to Delius (quoted by Furness), " Macbeth enters engaged 
in talking with Banquo about the varying fortune of the day of battle 
which they had just experienced." 

39. Forres. Forres is on the southern shore of the Moray Frith, about 
twenty-five miles from Inverness. At its western extremity there is a 
height commanding the river, the level country to the south, and the 
town. Here are the ruins of an ancient castle, a stronghold of the Earls 
of Moray. Some believe that it was the residence of Duncan, and- 
afterwards of Macbeth, when the court was at Forres. Not far distant 
is the famous " blasted heath," of which Knight says : '■'• There is not a 
more dreary piece of moorland to be found in all Scotland. It is with- 
out tree or shrub. A few patches of oats are visible here and there, and 
the eye reposes on a fir plantation at one extremity ; but all around is 
bleak and brown, made up of peat and bog water, white stones and bushes 
of furze. The desolation of the scene in stormy weather, or when the 
twilight fogs are trailing over the pathless heath or settling down upon 
the pools, must be indescribable," 



i6o NOTES. 

43. That man may question. " Are ye any beings with which man is 
permitted to hold converse, or of whom it is lawful to ask questions ?" 
(Johnson). 

45. Should. See Gr. 323, and cf. i. 2. 46 above. 

46. Beards. St. quotes B. and F., Honest Mail's Fortune, ii. i : 

"And the women that 
Come to us, for disguises must wear beards; 
And that's, they say, a token of a witch." 

Cf. also M. W. iv. 2. 202 : " I think the 'oman is a witch indeed ; I like 
not when a 'oman has a great peard." 

48. Glamis. " In Scotland, always pronounced as a monosyllable, 
with the open sound of the first vowel, as in alms'''' (Seymour). 

Glamis, or Glammis, is a village about twenty-five miles north-east of 
Perth, in a very beautiful situation.* Near by is Glamis Castle, " perhaps 
the finest and most picturesque of the Scottish castles now inhabited." 
In its present form, it dates back only to the 17th century, though portions 
of it are much older. The original castle was frequently used as a res- 
idence by the Scottish kings, especially by Alexander II. in 1263-64. 
Robert II. gave it to John Lyon, who had married his daughter, but in 
1537 it reverted to the Crown, and James V. occupied it for some time. 

Sir Walter Scott says : " I was only nineteen or twenty years old when 
I happened to pass a night in this magnificent old baronial castle. The 
hoary old pile contains much in its appearance, and in the traditions 
connected with it, impressive to the imagination. It was the scene of 
the murder of a Scottish king of great antiquity ; not indeed the gracious 
Duncan, with whom the name naturally associates it, but Malcolm II. 
It contains also a curious monument of the peril of feudal times, being a 
secret chamber, the entrance to which, by the law or custom of the family, 
must only be known to three persons at once — the Earl of Strathmore, 
his heir-apparent, and any third person whom they may take into their 
confidence. The extreme antiquity of the building is vouched by the 
immense thickness of the walls, and the wild and straggling arrangement 
of the accommodation within doors. I was conducted to my apartment 
in a distant corner of the building ; and I must own that, as I heard door 
after door shut, after my conductor had retired, I began to consider my- 
self too far from the living and somewhat too near the dead." 

In front of the manse at Glamis is an ancient sculptured obelisk (see 
cut, p. 150) called " King Malcolm's Gravestone," and here tradition says 
he was buried. 

51. Coleridge comments on this speech and the context as follows : 

" But O ! how truly Shakespearian is the opening of Macbeth's char- 
acter given in the unpossessedness of Banquo's mind, wholly present to 
the present object — an unsullied, unscarified mirror ! And how strictly 
true to nature it is that Banquo, and not Macbeth himself, directs our 
notice to the effect produced on Macbeth's mind, rendered temptable by 
previous dalliance of the fancy with ambitious thoughts : 

^ See cut on p. 8 ; and for Glamis Castle, views on p. 9 (from a sketch by Creswick, 
msuie about 1840) and p. 46. 



ACT I. SCENE III. l6i 

' Good sir, why do you start, and seem to fear 
Things that do sound so fair?' 

And then, again, still unintvoitive, addresses the witches ; 

' I' the name of truth, 
Are ye fantastical, or that indeed 
Which outwardly ye show?' 

Banquo's questions are those of natural curiosity — such as a girl would 
put after hearing a gipsy tell her school-fellow's fortune ; — all perfectly 
general, or rather planless. But Macbeth, lost in thought, raises him- 
self to speech only by the witches being about to depart : 

' Stay, you imperfect speakers, tell me more ;' 

and all that follows is reasoning on a problem already discussed in his 
mind — on a hope which he welcomes, and the doubts concerning the at- 
tainment of which he wishes to have cleared up. Compare his eagerness 
— the keen eye with which he has pursued the witches' evanishing — 

' Speak, I charge you,' 

with the easily satisfied mind of the self-uninterested Banquo : 

' The earth hath bubbles, as the water has. 
And these are of them. Whither are they vanish'd?' 

and then Macbeth's earnest reply — 

' Into the air; and what seem'd corporal melted 
As breath into the wind. Would they had stay' dV 

Is it too minute to notice the appropriateness of the simile 'as breath,' 
etc., in a cold climate.'' 

Still again Banquo goes on wondering, like any common spectator : 

' Were such things here as we do speak about ?' 

while Macbeth persists in recurring to the self-concerning : 

' Your children shall be kings. 
Banquo. You shall be king. - 
Macbeth. And thane of Cawdor too: went it not so?' 

So surely is the guilt in its germ anterior to the supposed cause and im- 
mediate temptation ! Before he can cool, the confirmation of the tempt- 
ing half of the prophecy arrives, and the concatenating tendency of the 
imagination is fostered by the sudden coincidence : 

' Glamis, and thane of Cawdor 1 
The greatest is behind.' 

Oppose this to Banquo's simple surprise : 

'What, can the devil speak true?"' 

53. Fantastical. " That is, creatures oi fantasy, or imagination " (John- 
son). The word occurs in Holinshed's account of this interview with 
the weird sisters (see p. 141). Cf. line 139 below, and Rich. II. i. 3. 299. 

54. Show. Appear. See on i. 2. 15. On ye followed hj you, see Gr, 
236. 

55. " There is here a skilful reference to the thrice repeated * Hail ' of 

L 



,62 NOTES. 

the witches. ' Thane of Glamis ' he was ; that is the * present grace f 
but ' Thane of Cawdor ' was only predicted ; this is the ' noble having ;' 
the prospect of royalty is only hope, ' of royal hope ' " (Hunter). 

56. Having. Possession, estate. Cf. M. W. iii. 2. 73 : " The gentleman 
is of no having;" T. of A. ii. 2. 153 : 

" The greatest of your having lacks a half 
To pay your present debts." 

See also Ren. VIII. ii. 3. 23 and iii. 2. 159. 

57. That. On the omission of so, see Gr. 283, and cf i. 2. 58 above. 
60. Who neither beg, etc. Who neither beg your favours nor fear your 

hate. Cf. ii. 3. 45 below. The C. P. ed. quotes W. T. iii. 2. 164 : 

" Though I with death and with 
Reward did threaten and encourage him." 

65. Lesser. Still sometimes used as an adjective, but never adverbial- 
ly, as in T. and C. ii. 2. 8 : " Though no man lesser fears the Greeks than 
I." See also v. 2. 13 below. 

66. Happy. Fortunate ; like the Latin /^//x. Cf Lear, iv. 6. 230. 

67. Get. Beget ; but not a contraction of that word. See Wb. and 
note on i. 2. 25 above. 

71. Sinel. The father of Macbeth, according to Holinshed. Ritson 
says his true name was Finleg (Finley) ; Dr. Beattie conjectured that it 
was Sinane, and that Dimsinane (the hill of Sinane) was derived from it. 

72. Johnson asks : " How can Macbeth be ignorant of the state of the 
thane whom he has just defeated and taken prisoner (see i. 2. 50 fol.), or 
call him a prosperous gentleman who has forfeited his title and life by 
open rebellion? He cannot be supposed to dissemble, because nobody 
is present but Banquo, who was equally acquainted with Cawdor's 
treason?" 

76. Owe. Own, have. Cf Rich. II. iv. i. 184 : " That owes two buck- 
ets ;" and see note in our ed. 

80. Of them. Cf A. W. ii. 5. 50 : "I have kept of them tame ;" W. T. 
iv. 4. 217 : " You have of these pedlars," etc. 

81. Corporal. Corporeal. S. n&vex wsts corporeal or incorporeal. He 
has incorporal in Ham. iii. 4. 1 18 : "the incorporal air." 

Elwin (quoted by Furness) says : " The emphasis should be laid on 
' seem'd,' and the division of ideas is at ' corporal,' and there the rest 
should be made by the speaker ; for the mind dwells first on the seeming 
immateriality, and then turns to the antithesis of invisibility. ' Melted ' 
consequently belongs to the second line, which is uttered in accents of 
wonder, and with a rapidity illustrative of the act it describes." 

84. On. Cf y. C. i. 2. 71 : "jealous on me ;" M. of V. ii. 6. 67 : "glad 
on't ;" and see note, Mer. p. 143, or Gr. 138, 181. 

The insane root is an example of " prolepsis ;" insane=making insane. 
Steevens thinks that hemlock is meant, and quotes Greene, Never too 
Late (1616) : "you have eaten of the roots of hemlock, that makes men's 
eyes conceit unseen objects." " Root of hemlock " is one of the, ingre- 
dients of the witches' cauldron, iv. I. 25. Douce cites Batman, Uppon 
Bartholome de Prop. Rerum : " Henbane ... is called insana, mad, for 



ACT I. SCENE III. 163 

the use thereof is perillous, for if it be eate or dronke, it breedeth mad- 
nesse, or slow lyknesse of sleepe." The C. P. editors suggest that it may 
be the deadly nightshade {Atropa belladonna), of which Gerard, in his 
fferball, says : " This kinde of Nightshade causeth sleepe, troubleth the 
minde, bringeth madnes, if a few of the berries be inwardly taken." Beis- 
ley {Shakespeare's Garden) says : " It is difficult to decide what plant S. 
meant. John Bauhin, in his Historia Plantariim, says : ' Hyoscyamus 
was called herba insana.'' " 

89. Ross. Some editors print the name Rosse; but as French {Skake- 
speareana Genealogica) points out, that is " an Irish dignity," and should 
not be confounded with this Scottish title, which " really belonged to 
Macbeth, who, long before the action of the play begins, was Thane, or 
more properly, Maormor of Ross by the death of his father, Finley." 

91. Rebels\ The folios have "rebels." Delius and some other edi- 
tors print " rebel's," taking "personal venture" to refer to Macbeth's 
single combat with Macdonald. 

92, 93. " Thine refers to praises, his to wonders, and the meaning is : 
There is a conflict in the king's mind between his astonishment at the 
achievement and his admiration of the achiever ; he knows not how suf- 
ficiently to express his own wonder and to praise Macbeth, so that he is 
reduced to silence. That refers to the mental conflict just described " 
(C. P. ed.). 

" His wonder, which is his own, contends with his praise, which is 
yours" (Moberly). 

Silenc'd with that is explained by Malone, " wrapped in silent wonder 
at the deeds performed by Macbeth ;" by Moberly, " when he had done 
speaking of that ;" by J. Hunter, " leaving that unsettled." 

96. Nothing afeard. On ;z(7^/zm^ used adverbially, see Gr. 55. S. uses 
afeard 32 times and afraid 44 times (including the poems as well as the 
plays). 

97. As thick as tale. The folio reading is " as thick as Tale Can post 
with post," etc. Rowe changed this to " as thick as hail Came post," 
etc. Johnson restored "tale," retaining "Came," and explained the 
passage, "posts arrived as fast as they could be counted." Sr., Coll., 
W., St., and H. follow Johnson ; most of the other editors adopt Rowe's 
emendation in full. W. remarks : " To say that men arrived as thick as 
tale, i. e. as fast as they could be told, is an admissible hyperbole ; to say 
that nieit arrived as thick as hail, i. e. as close together as hailstones in a 
storm, is equally absurd and extravagant. The expression, ' as thick as 
hail,' is never applied, either in common talk or in literature, I believe, 
except to inanimate objects which fall or fly, or have fallen or flown, with 
unsuccessive multitudinous rapidity." This latter point seems to have 
been overlooked by those who dwell on the fact that " thick as hail " is 
often used by the old writers. It must be admitted, on the other hand, 
that no parallel instance of " thick as tale " is to be found. The question 
is a very close one. If both readings were conjectural we should be in- 
clined to adopt "hail ;" but as "tale" is in the folio, and may possibly 
be right, we allow it to stand in the text. 

100. Sent. Hunter conjectured *'not sent;" but the sense is quite 



164 



NOTES. 



clear as the text stands, for thanks are not payment, and Angus's speech 
thus suits much better with the one which follows (C. P. ed.). 

106. Addition. Title. The C. P. ed. quotes Cowel, who says {Law 
Diet. s. V.) that it signifies "a title given to a man besides his Christian 
and surname, shewing his estate, degree, mystery, trade, place of dwell- 
ing," etc. Cf. Cor. i. 9. 66 ; Hen. V. v. 2. 467 ; Ham. i. 4. 20 ; M. W. ii. 2. 
312, etc. 

107. Deinl. Metrically a monosyllable, like the Scotch deHl. Gr. 466. 
So whether' in ill just below. 

108. See on line 72 above. Hunter [New lihis., ii. 153, quoted by 
Furness) finds here an additional reason for fixing the date of the play in 
1606. He says : " This passage has hitherto been taken as merely met- 
aphorical ; but it seems to me that Shakespeare really intended that the 
robes pertaining to the dignity of Thane of Cawdor, to which Macbeth 
was just elevated, should be produced on the stage by Ross and Angus ; 
that in fact the ceremony of investiture should take place on the stage. 
It is at least more in accordance with the turn of the expression than 
to suppose that Macbeth spoke thus in mere metaphor. 

" Now, it happened that this ancient ceremony of investiture had been 
lately gone through by Sir David Murray on his being created Lord 
Scone. We are told that he 'was with the greatest solem.nity invested 
in that honour on the 7th of April, 1605, by a special commission, direct- 
ed to the Earl Dumfermling, the Lord Chancellor, to that eft'ect. The 
ceremony was in presence of the earls Angus, Sutherland, Marischal, 
Linlithgow; the lords Fleming, Drummond, and Thirlestane.' This 
particular investiture in a Scottish dignity probably suggested to Shake- 
speare the idea of introducing the investiture of Macbeth as Thane of 
Cawdor. The Earl of Angus, we see, appears both in the play and in the 
actual performance of the ceremony ; and Sir David Murray, it may also 
be observed, received the dignity under circumstances not very unlike 
those under which Macbeth acquired the thanedom of Cawdor. He 
had a large share in saving the life of the king at the time of the Gowrie 
conspiracy, and the king gave him for his reward, first, the barony of 
Ruthven, which had belonged to the Earl of Gowrie, and next the 
lands of Scone, of which the Earl of Gowrie had been commendator, 
and had lost them by treason. ' What he hath lost noble Macbeth 
hath won.' " 

109. Who. 7% who. See Gr. 251. 

112. Li7ie. Strengthen, fortify (Schmidt). Cf. i Hen. IV. ii. 3. 86: 
" To line his enterprise ;" Hen. V. ii. 4. 7 : " To line and new repair our 
towns of war." 

113. Vantage. See on i. 2. 31. 

114. Wrack. The spelling wreck is never found in the early eds. See 
Rich. II. p. 177. 

120. Trusted honie. Trusted completely. See Gr. 45. Cf the ex- 
pi-ession still in use, "to strike home." 

121. Enkindle you tmto. " Licite you to hope for" (C. P. ed.). Cf. 
A. V. L. i. I. 179 : "nothing remains but that I kindle the boy thither" 
(that is, incite him to it). 



ACT I. SCENE in. 



i6s 



123, And oftentimes, etc. Flathe [Shaks. in seiner Wirkiichkeit, quoted 
by Furness), who considers that Banquo is a silent accomplice in Mac- 
beth's murderous designs, believing that these must be carried out in 
order to ensure the fulfilment of the prophecy with regard to his own 
posterity, remarks here : " This warning comes oddly enough from the 
lips of a man who has just questioned the witches himself with such 
haste and eagerness. Here we have the first glimpse of the deceit and 
falsehood practised by Banquo upon himself. . . . 

"Banquo would so gladly esteem himself an honourable man ; there- 
fore he warns Macbeth, although as briefly as possible, against the devil. 
He knows that a mere warning will avail nothing, but he ignores this, 
wishing to be able to say to himself, when Macbeth has attained his end, 
' I am guiltless, I warned him against the devil.' Had Banquo been 
really true, how differently he would have borne himself." . . . 

126, 127. On the measure, see Gr. 454, 468, 513. On cousins, see Rich. 
II. p. 158, or Schmidt, s. v. 

128. Swelling act. Cf. Hen. V. prol. 4 : 

" princes to act, 
And monarchs to behold the swelling scene." 

129. On the measure, see Gr, 461, 468. 

130. Soliciting. " That is, incitement " (Johnson). 

135. Cf. V. 5. 11-13. 

136. Seated. " Fix^ed, firmly placed " (Steevens). Cf Milton, P. Z. 
vi. 644: "the seated hills." 

137. Present fears. Warb. substituted "feats," whereon Coleridge com- 
ments as follows : " Mercy on this most wilful ingenuity of blundering, 
which, nevertheless, was the very Warburton of Warburton — his inmost 
being ! Fears here are present fear-striking objects, terribilia adsta^itia.'''' 
For_/£'«r=object of fear, cf M. N. D.y. i. 21 : 

"Or in the night, imagining some fear. 
How easy is a bush supposed a bear !" 

139. Fantastical. See on i. 3. 53 ; and for the measure, Gr. 467. On 
vinrther, see Rich. II. p. 158. 

140. My single state of man. St. remarks: '■'■ Single here bears the 
sense oiweak ; my feeble govern7neni (or body politic) of man. S.'s afflu- 
ence of thought and language is so unbounded that he rarely repeats 
himself, but there is a remarkable affinity, both in idea and in expression, 
between the present passage and one in J. C. ii. i. 63-69 : 

' Between the acting of a dreadful thing 
And the first motion, all the interim is 
Like a phantasma, or a hideous dream : 
The Genius and the moral instruments 
Are then in council ; and the .state of man, 
Like to a little kingdom, suffers then 
The nature of an insurrection.' " 

Cf. also T. and C. ii. 3. 184 : 

" 'twixt his mental and his active parts 
Kingdom' d Achilles in commotion rages, 
And batters down himself." 



1 66 NOTES. 

Schmidt explains single here as=individual. For jz'«;_^/^= weak, unsup- 
ported, cf. Temp, i, 2. 432 : " A single thing, as 1 am now." 

That function, etc. "All powers of action are oppressed and crushed 
by one overwhelming image in the mind, and nothing is present to 
me but that which is really future. Of things now about me I have no 
perception, being intent wholly on that which has yet no existence " 
(Johnson), 

For surmise the C. P. ed. cites 7] /^. ii. 3. 219 : 

" Aaron is gone \ and my compassionate heart 
Will not permit mine eyes once to behold 
The thing whereat it trembles by surmise." 

144. Stir. Motion, action. Cf. Rich. II. ii. 3. 51, and see note in our 
ed. 

Come. Cf. R. of L. 1784 : "Weak words, so thick come in his poor 
heart's aid." Gr. 295. 

145. Our strange gar tnents. That is, new ones. 

147. Tim,e and the hour, etc. " That is, tempus et hora, time and occa- 
sion, will carry the thing through, and bring it to some determined point 
and end, let its nature be what it will " (Mrs. Montagu). " The hour 
signifies the appropriate hour'''' (Elwin). On ru7is, see Gr. 336. 

149. Favour. " Indulgence, pardon " (Steevens). Cf. Hen. VIII. \.i. 
168. Coleridge remarks here : "Lost in the prospective of his guilt, he 
turns round alarmed lest others may suspect what is passing in his own 
mind, and instantly invents the lie of ambition : 

' my dull brain was wrought 
With things forgotten ;' 

and immediately after pours forth the promising courtesies of a usurper 

in intention : 

' Kind gentlemen, your pains 
Are register'd where every day I turn 
The leaf to read them.'" 

Wrought=2ig\\.<iX^d.. Cf. /^ Z: V. 3. 58 : 

" If I had thought the sight of my poor image 
Would thus have wrought you." 

The C. P. ed. cites 0th. v. 2. 345. 

151. Register'' d. "That is, in the tablets of his memory, like the 
\ivr]\xoinc, dkXroL (ppsvCJv (yEschylus, Prom. 789). Cf Ham. i. 5. 98 " (C. 
P. ed.). 

154. The interim. The C. P. editors, following Steevens, think that 
"the interitJi, or intervening time, is here personified." Abbott consid- 
ers it a case of the omission of a preposition (Gr. 202)=in the interim. 
Cf. iv. 3. 48 : [in] "more sundry ways." 

Scene IV. — i. Are. The reading of 2d folio; the ist has "Or." 
3. On are come, see Gr. 295 ; on spoke, Gr. 343. 

8. The leavijig. See Gr. 93. 

9. Had been studied. " Had made it his study " (Schmidt). Cf. M. oj 

V. ii. 2. 205 : 

" Like one well studied in a sad ostent 
To please his gran dam." 



ACT I. SCENE IV. 



167 



" The meaning is that he died as if he had studied to throw away his life 
as a careless trifle. The comma after death should be omitted " (Noble 
Butler). See Gr. 295. 

10. Owed. See on i. 3, 76. 

11. As V were. See Gr. 107 ; and for careless = \m.Z2.x^di-io\ , Gr. 3. Cf. 
«^^//(?j-j-= invisible, in i. 7. 23. 

The C. P. ed. cites here Euripides, Medea, 516-520 : 

&> Zev, Ti 61] xpv'oTi ij,6v 09 k//35iiXo? rj, 
reK.fxr]pi avOpwTTOiacv WTracra? (Ta<p7i, 
tivdpwv 3' oTtt) xph ''"O" KaKov dieidevai, 
ovSei^ XapaKr'rjp e/XTre^uKe awfiaTi ; 

There 's no art, etc. " Duncan's childlike spirit makes a moment's 
pause of wonder at the act of treachery, and then flings itself, like Glos- 
ter in Ki7ig Lear, with still more absolute trust and still more want of re- 
flection, into the toils of a far deeper and darker treason. The pause on 
the word trtist, shortening the line by two syllables, is in this point of 
view very suggestive " (Moberly). 

19. Propoj'tion. " The due proportion " (C. P. ed.). Cf. T. and C. i, 
3. 87 : " proportion, season, form." 

20. Mine. In my power, mine to give; as all in the next line means 
all I have. 

23. Pays itself. Is its own reward. Gr. 336. 

27. Safe toward. " With sure tendency, with certain direction " (Sey- 
mour). 

" Here in contrast with Duncan's 'plenteous joys,' Macbeth has noth- 
ing but the commonplaces of loyalty, in which he hides himself with ' our 
duties.' Note the exceeding effort of Macbeth's addresses to the king, 
his reasoning on his allegiance, and then especially when a new difficul- 
ty, the designation of a successor, suggests a new crime. This, however, 
seems the first distinct notion as to the plan of realizing his wishes ; and 
here, therefore, with great propriety, Macbeth's cowardice of his own 
conscience discloses itself" (Coleridge). 

30. Nor. We should now use And. Cf M. of V. iii. 4. 11 : "Nor 
shall not now." For double negatives in S., see Gr. 406. 

32. Grow. Here used, as the C. P. ed. remarks, in the double sense 
of "to cling close" and "to increase." For the former, cf. Hejt. VIII. 

V. 5. 50 : 

" Peace, plenty, love, truth, terror. 
That were the servants to this chosen infant, 
Shall then be his, and like a vine grow to him." 

For the other sense oigrow, see A. W. ii. 3. 163 : 

" It is in us to plant thine honour where 
We please to have it grow ;' ' 

also B. and F., The Islajtd Princess, iii. i : " So is my study still to plant 
thy person." 

33-35. Malone cites Lucan, Phars. ix. 1038 : 

" lacrymas non sponte cadentes 
Effudit, gemitusque expressit pectore laeto ; 
Non aliter manifesta potens abscondere mentis 
Gaudia, quam lacrymis." 



1 68 NOTES. 

Cf. also R. and J. iii. 2. 102 : 

" Back, foolish tears, back to your native spring ; 
Your tributary drops belong to woe, 
Which you, mistaking, offer up to joy ;" 

ajnd W. T. V. 2. 47 : ''There might you have beheld one joy crown an- 
other, so and in such manner that it seemed sorrow wept to take leave 
of them, for their joy waded in tears," 

37. The throne of Scotland was originally not hereditary. 

39. Cumberland. See extract from Holinshed (p. 142), '^ When the 
successor to the throne was designated in the lifetime of the king, the 
title of Prince of Cumberland was bestowed upon him. Cumberland 
fv^as at that time held by Scotland of the crown of England as a fief" 
(Steevens). 

44. The rest, etc. " The rest which is not spent in the king's service is 
like severe labour" (Hunter). 

45. Harbinger. Used here in its original sense (see Wb.) of an officer 
whose duty it was to ride in advance of the king and secure lodgings for 
the royal retinue. Nares cites the old play of Alhimaz, vii. 137 : 

" I have no reason, nor spare room for any. 
Love's harbinger hath chalk'd upon my heart. 
And with a coal writ on my brain, yi^r Fiazna, 
This house is wholly taken u^ /or Flavia." 

It appears that the custom was kept up as late as the time of Charles II. 

Hawkins, in his Life of Bishop Ken, says : " On the removal of the court 
to pass the summer at Winchester, Bishop Ken's house, which he held 
in the right of his prebend, was marked by the harbinger for the use of 
Mrs. Eleanor Gwyn ; but he refused to grant her admittance, and she 
was forced to seek for lodgings in another place." 

50. " Macbeth apparently appeals to the stars because he is contem- 
plating night as the time for the perpetration of the deed. There is 
nothing to indicate that this scene took place at night" (C. P. ed.). 

52. The eye, etc. " Let the eye not see what the hand does" (Moberly). 

Let that be. Let that take place. Delius makes "the eye" the sub- 
ject of "let;" that is, "the eye, in silent collusion with the executing 
hand, is to let that take place which it fears to see after the hand has 
executed it." 

54. Full so valiant. Quite as brave as you say. While Macbeth has 
been soliloquizing, Duncan ' and Banquo have been talking about his 
recent deeds. 

56. Banquet. Feast. It sometimes meant merely the dessert. See 
Hen. VILI. p. 204, note on A running banquet. Cf. T. of S.y. 2. ()-. 

" My banquet is to close our stomachs up 
After our great good cheer." 

58. Lt is. " A touch of affectionate familiarity " (C. P. ed.). 

Scene V. — 2. By the perfedest report. By the best intelligence — that 
of experience. 

4. They made themselves air. Sheridan Knowles remarks that in the 
look and tone with which Mrs. Siddons delivered the word air "you 



ACT I. SCENE V, 169 

recognized ten times the wonder with which Macbeth and Banquo actu- 
ally beheld the vanishing of the witches." 

5. Whiles. See Gr. 137. Cf. Matt. v. 25. 

Missives. Messengers ; as in the only other instance in which S. uses 
the word [A. and C. ii. 2. 74). 

6. All-hailed. The folio has the hyphen. Cf. Florio {Ital. Did. quoted 
in C. P. ed.) : " Salutare, to salute, to greet, to alhaile." 

9. Deliver thee. Report to thee. Cf. Temp. v. i. 313: "I'll deliver 
all," etc. See Temp. p. 144. 

15. It is too full 0'' the milk of humaji kind7iess. Delius remarks that 
S. elsewhere uses this metaphor ; as in iv. 3. 98 below, and in R. and J, 
iii. 3. 55. Cf. also Lear, i. 4. 364. 

Bodenstedt (quoted by Furness) comments on the passage thus : " We 
are somewhat astonished to learn this about Macbeth, for throughout 
the drama we find no trace of this 'milk of human kindness.' We must 
presume that the lady has too high an opinion of her husband. . . . We 
already know him as a quickly determined murderer in thought, and as 
an accomplished hypocrite ; and this nature of his is not belied by the 
present letter ; it appears only thinly disguised. The lady knows at once 
what he is after ; she knows and openly acknowledges that his ' milk of 
human kindness' will not deter him from attempting the life of old King 
Duncan, but only from ' catching the nearest way ;' that is, from laying 
his own hand to it." 

Ulrici remarks: "Macbeth's is a lofty, glorious, and highly gifted 
nature. He strives for what is highest and greatest, from an internal 
sympathy for all that is great. But in endeavouring to acquire it he, at 
the same time, has the wish to satisfy his own self, to possess what is 
highest, not only because it is high, but in order thereby to raise himself. 
. . . Up to the commencement of the drama he has kept this desire, this 
ambition, under the discipline of the law ; as yet he has nowhere gone 
beyond the lawful limit, that delicate line which preserves honour from 
becoming ambition, and distinguishes it from vice. Thus, at least, he is 
described by his own wife, who must surely be the best judge." 

16. Wouldst. See Gr. 329. 

18. The illness should. The evil which should. See Gr. 244. The 
C. P. ed. remarks that illness " is not used elsewhere by S. in this sense." 
He does not use it elsewhere in any sense. The word does not occur at 
all in Milton's poems. 

20-23. The general meaning seems to be: "You want to have what 
can only be obtained on conditions which it proclaims of itself; you wish 
also to have what you rather fear to do than wish not to be done " 
(Moberlv). 

Seymour (quoted by Furness) says : " The difficulty here arises from 
the accumulative conjunction, which leads us to expect new matter, 
whereas that which follows [line 23] is only amplification. ' Thou 
wouldst have the crown ; which cries. Thou must kill Duncan, if thou 
have it' This is an act which thou 7nust do, if thou have the crown. 
' And,' adds the lady, ' what thou art not disinclined to do, but art ratheJ 
fearful X.o perform than unwilling to have executed.' " 



170 



NOTES. 



Malone wished to include in the " cry " all from " Thus thou must 
do " to " should be undone ;" Hunter, only the words '' Thus thou must 
do." Johnson thought it necessary to read "if thou have me f but such 
"confusions of construction " are not uncommon in S. See Gr. 415. 

23. Hie thee. Here, as in " Look thee '\W.T. iii. 3. 116), " Hark thee " 
(jCymb.\. 5, 32), etc., thee seems to be used for thou. See Gr. 212. 

25. Chastise. Accented by S. on the first syllable. Cf. Rich. II. ii. 30 
104. Gr. 491. 

26. The golden round. Cf. iv. i. 88: 

"And wears upon his baby brow the round 
And top of sovereignty." 

Dyce remarks that the phrase had been previously applied to a ring by 
Abraham Faunce, Coiintesse of Pevibrokes Yuychiirch, i^gi : "Wedding 
ring, farewell ! . . . full well did I cause to be grauen In thy golden round 
those words," etc. 

27. Metaphysical. Supernatural (to which word it is etymologically 
analogous). S. uses the word nowhere else. The C. P. ed. cites Min- 
sheu's Spanish Diet., 1599 : " Metafisica, things supernaturall, the meta- 
phisickes," and Florio's World of Wordes, 1598: " Metafisico, one that 
profess'eth things supernaturall." Delius quotes The Puritan (1607), 
ii. I : " Metaphysically and by a supernatural intelligence." 

Seem. Cf i. 2. 47 above; also A. W. iii. 6. 94: "that so confidently 
seems to undertake this business ;" Per. i. i. 121 : "How courtesy would 
seem to cover sin !" As Schmidt remarks, in these instances, like the 
present, the word seems to be "almost periphrastical." Doth seem to 
have is nearly equivalent to would have. 

28. Tidings. Like news, used by S. both as singular and plural. See 
Rich. II. pp. 177, 198. 

29. Thou Wt mad, etc. " The lady's self-control breaks down for a 
moment at hearing that Duncan is rushing into the toils ; and is only by 
a powerful effort regained in the next words " (Moberly). 

33. Had the speed of him. Has outstripped him. 

35. Tending. Attendance ; or tendaitce, which S. uses instead. Cf T. 
of A. i. I. 57 ; Hen. VIII. iii. 2. 149 ; Cymb. v. 5. 53, etc. Tending occurs 
as a noun only here. 

36. The raven. Delius, Moberly, the C. P. editors, and some other 
critics understand this to refer to the messenger, who is hoarse from lack 
of breath ; but the simpler and more obvious sense seems to be that the 
ill-boding raven is hoarse with proclaiming the fate of Duncan. John- 
son, Hunter, Collier, and others so explain it. 

37. Entrance. A trisyllable here. Gr. 477. 

38. My battlements. Hunter remarks : " The word my is purposely 
used by S. to let the audience into the spirit of the character intended for 
the wife of the thane ; tiihil noit arrogat ; the castle is hers — not Mac- 
beth's, not theirs jointly. It prepares for that overbearing of the milder 
and gentler spirit of the thane which follows." This seems making over- 
much of the my, which is natural enough in the lady's present mood. Cf. 
Weiss : " Mine, for this night only ; Macbeth's at every other time, but 
mine this once, to hold out with against my husband's mood." 



ACT I. SCENE V. 



171 



" If there be any one who does not feel the sublimity of the pause 
after battlemejtts, we can only say that he has yet to study Shakespeare " 
(K.). Yet Pope wanted to read " all you spirits," and Steevens, " Come, 
come." 

39. Mortal. Deadly ; as very often in S. and other writers. See 
Rich. II. p. 189. On tend, see on i. 2. 25. 

40. Top-fidl. Used again in K. John, iii. 4. 180. 

42. Access. Accented as here by S. except in Ham. ii. i. no. See 
Gr. 490. 

Remorse. Relenting, pity. Cf V. and A. 257: "'Pity,' she cries, 
' some favour, some remorse !' " See also Temp. v. i. 76 ; M. of V. iv. i. 
20 ; K. John, ii. I. 478, etc. So S. uses re7norseful=Y^'i\i\A [T G. of V. 
iv. 3. 13; A. W. V. 3. 58, etc.) and remorseless='^\^-{\&%'s, {R. of L. 562; 
Ham. ii. 2. 609, etc.). This last word is still used in the same sense. 

43-45. " That no natural feelings of pity may intervene between my 
cruel purpose and its effect, may stop the meditated blow" (C. P. ed.). 
The meaning seems clear enough, but "keep peace'''' has worried some 
of the critics. Johnson suggested " keep pace,'''' and Bailey " keep space.''' 
As K. remarks, anything that stands between a purpose and its accom- 
plishment may be said to keep peace between them, " as one who inter- 
feres between a violent man and the object of his wrath keeps peace." 

46. Take my milk for gall. Johnson says : " Take atvay my milk, and 
-^\x\. gall into the place ;" but the simpler meaning is, turn it to gall. 

47. Sightless substances. Invisible forms. See on careless, i. 4. 11, and 
cf. i, 7. 23 below. Gr. 3. 

48. Mischief. " This expresses both injury engendered in human nat- 
ure and done to it'''' (El win). 

49. Pall. Wrap {L.2X\x\. pallire, ixoxa pallium). Used by S. only here, 
and perhaps by no other writer as a verb. Oi course, /^//=become 
vapid {Ham. v. 2. 9 ; A. and C. ii. 7. 88) is an entirely different word. 

Dunnest, Steevens notes that a writer in the Rambler (No. 168) crit- 
icises the epithet dun as mean. Milton, however, uses it {P. L. iii. 72 ; 
Comus, 127), and, as the C. P. ed. remarks, to our ears it no longer sounds 
mean. As Horace says {Ars Poet. 70), 

" Multa renascentur quae jam cecidere, cadentque 
Quae nunc sunt in honore vocabula, si volet usus." 

50. See not. Elwin says, rather fancifully, " that the wound may not 
be reflected in the brightness of the blade." 

51. Blanket. This word has sorely troubled the critics. Coleridge 
was driven to the fearful suggestion of "blank height," but omitted it in 
the 2d ed. of his Table Talk ("on my urging its absurdity," Dyce says). 
Blachtess and blankest are other attempts at emendation where none is 
needed. Malone compares Drayton's Mo?'timeriados, 1596 : " The sullen 
night in mistie rugge is wrapp'd," and adds: ^'Blanket was perhaps 
suggested by the coarse woollen curtain of S.'s own theatre, through 
vvhich, probably, while the house was but yet half-lighted, he had himself 
often peeped." Whiter (quoted by Furness) says: "Nothing is more 
certain than that all the images in tliis passage are borrowed from the 



172 



NOTES. 



stage. The peculiar and appropriate dress of Tragedy is a pall* and a 
knife. When tragedies were represented, the stage was hung with black. 
... In R. of L. (764-770) there is a wonderful coincidence with this pas- 
sage, in which we have not only ' Black stage for tragedies and murders, 
fell,'' but also '■comfort-killing Night, image of Hell, ^ corresponding with 
thick Night and the dunnest smoke of hell. Again, in line 788, we have 
'Through Nighfs black bosom should Vioi peep again.' " 

But whatever may have suggested it, blanket, though homely, is Shake- 
spearian ; and, as W. suggests, " the man who does not apprehend the 
meaning and the pertinence of the figure had better shut his Shake- 
speare, and give his days and nights to the perusal of — some more correct 
and classical writer." 

53. Hereafter. Mrs. Jameson remarks : " This is surely the very rapt- 
ure of ambition ! and those who have heard Mrs. Siddons pronounce the 
word hereafter cannot forget the look, the tone, which seemed to give her 
auditors a glimpse of the awful /z^/z/;--?, which she, in her prophetic fury, 
beholds upon the instant." 

55. Ig7iorant. "Unknowing; I feel by anticipation those future 
honours, of which, according to the process of nature, the preseitt time 
would be ignorant'''' (Johnson), Delius takes it to mean "our unknown, 
obscure, inglorious present," and cites W. T. i. 2. 397 : " ignorant con- 
cealment." 

Feel. Metrically a dissyllable. Gr. 484. 

59. On the measure, see Gr. 511. 

61, To beguile the time. That is (as Delius and Schmidt explain), to 
deceive men; not "to wile away the time," as in T. N. iii. 3. 41. The 
same expression occurs in Daniel's Civil Wars, book viii. (1609) : 

" He drawes a Trauerse 'twixt his greeuances: 
Lookes like the time : his eye made not report 
Of what he felt within." 

Perhaps Daniel borrowed it from S. 
63. Cf. Rich. II. iii. 2. 19 : 

"And when they from thy bosom pluck a flower, 
Guard it, I pray thee, with a lurking adder ;" 

and 2 Hen. VI. iii. i. 228 : "The snake roll'd in a flowering bank." 

70. To alter favour, etc. " To bear an altered face marks fear in you 
afud creates it in others" (Moberly). Ony/?z'^?zr=face, cf. J. C. i. 2. 91 : 
" Your outward favour," etc. See also Prov. xxxi. 30. 

Scene VI. — Sir Joshua Reynolds remarks : " This short dialogue be- 
tween Duncan and Banquo has always appeared to me a striking instance 
of what in painting is termed repose. Their conversation very naturally 
turns upon the beauty of the situation, and the pleasantness of the air; 
and Banquo, observing the martlets' nests in every recess of the cornice, 
remarks that where those birds most breed and haunt the air is delicate. 

* Cf. Milton, // Pens, gj : 

" Sometime let gorgeous Tragedy 
In sceptred pall come sweeping by." — (Ed.) 



ACT I. SCENE VI. 1 73 

The subject of this quiet and easy conversation gives that repose so nec- 
essary to the mind after the tumuhuous bustle of the preceding scenes, 
and perfectly contrasts the scene of horror that immediately succeeds." 

Franz Horn {Shakespeare's Schauspiele Erldiitert, translated by Fur- 
ness) says : 

"A very remarkable passage is found in act i. scene 6. Duncan has, 
in a pleasant way, invited himself to sup and pass the night in Macbeth's 
castle, and every reader and spectator anticipates that he is here delivered 
to his murderers. Duncan now actually appears before the castle in 
company with his faithful Banquo, and the question presses upon us : 
How wo^ild a hundred and again a hundred of our European poets have 
made Duncan talk ? 

" Most of them would have made him express himself thoughtfully, 
gravely, ominously, after the manner, doubtless, of Henry IV. of France, 
who h^ars 'in his presaging ear the footfall of the murderer seeking him 
through the streets of Paris ; feeling the spectral knife long ere Ravaillac 
had armed himself therewith.' Or, if the king were represented as un- 
aware of coming evil, some friend, at least, would warn him, and upon 
being questioned whence came his forebodings, would say no more than 
that a mysterious voice within prompted him thus to speak. It is not 
to be denied that in many tragedies such a treatment might be proper. 
But here it would disturb the effect ; for into the calm, soft spirit of 
Duncan, and into the bold heart of Banquo, no mystic voices can pene- 
trate. 

" Other poets might perhaps have hoped to produce an exhilarating 
effect by sharp contrasts, and even to have put the king in a light-heart- 
ed, merry mood, which would have been sufficiently out of place. 

" Our poet, in his wisdom and clear insight into human nature, has 
struck the right point, and is thoroughly human and humane in intro- 
ducing the repose which he here opens before us, in order to deepen the 
tragic pathos that follows." 

Moberly comments on the passage as follows : " Perfect peace seems 
to welcome the doomed king to his kinsman's house. No startling 
omens ; a light and cheerful air ; martins Ijuilding as on a temple, and 
'securely hatching their young.' The poetic instinct is the same as that 
which makes Homer, in //. xxii. 126, introduce into Hector's bitter fare- 
well to life the soft image of the 'youth and maiden conversing near 
some oak-tree or by some shadowy rock.' " 

Compare what Sheridan Knowles says in his Lectures on Dramatic 
Literature : 

" We come to the sixth scene, which has been instanced by a cele- 
brated artist and critic — Sir Joshua Reynolds — as an example of relief, 
analogous to what is technically called repose in painting. The artist 
and critic I allude to considers this to be the effect of design on the part 
of Shakespeare — that it is intended by him to relax the tension, the ex- 
treme tension of that interest which has been hitherto excited in the 
audience, and kept constantly upon the strain. Notwithstanding the 
eloquence of the remark, and the ingenuity with which it is enforced, I 
am inclined to take a different view of the subject, and to consider this 



174 



NOTES. 



scene as another and a higher step in the climax of the action. Thai 
Duncan should contemplate with satisfaction the pleasant seat of Mac- 
beth's castle, and that Banquo should participate in the feelings of the 
king, are perfectly natural ; but that the audience should partake this 
view is as preposterous as to suppose that we could see a man about to 
step into a cavern which we know to be the den of a wild beast, and 
participate in his admiration of the foliage which might happen to adorn 
its entrance. So far, if I mistake not, from there being any relaxing of 
the interest here, there is an absolute straining of it. The unconscious- 
ness of the destined victim to the fate that awaited it, the smiling flowers 
that dressed it, and its playful motions as it walked to the altar of sacri- 
fice, must have served, not to assuage, but to aggravate in the beholder 
the feeling of its predicament. There is no relief, no repose here. How 
often in witnessing this scene have I felt a wish that some suspicion of 
foul play would flash across the mind of Banquo, and that he would hang 
upon the robes of the king and implore him not to enter." 

I. Seat. Reed quotes Bacon, Essay 45 : " Hee that builds a faire 
House, upon an ill Seat, committeth himself to Prison." 

3. Senses. " Senses are nothing more than each man''s sense. Gentle 
sense mez-ns placid, calm, composed, and intimates the peaceable delight of 
a fine day" (Johnson). It may be considered an instance of prolepsis. 
Cf i. 3. 84 and iii. 4. 76. 

4. Martlet. The folios have " Barlet." The emendation is Rowe's, 
and is adopted by all the editors. It is supported by M. of V. ii. 9. 28 : 
"Like the martlet, Builds in the weather on the outward wall." Cf. T. 
of A. iii. 6. 31. 

Appi^ove = ^roYQ ; as often in S. Cf Af. of V. iii. 2. 79 ; 2 Hen. IV. i. 
2. 180 ; A. W.\\\. 7. 13, etc. 

5. Mansionry. Theobald's emendation for the " Mansonry " of the 
folios. Perhaps masonry, adopted by Pope (2d ed.), was S.'s word. He 
uses it in Sonn. 55. 6 and A. W. ii. I. 31. Mansionry is found nowhere 
else. 

6. yutty. The same word ■&& jetty (see Wb,). The C. P. ed. cites Cot- 
grave {^Fr. Diet.) : " Soupendue, f A penthouse ; iuttie, or part of a 
building that iuttieth beyond, or leaneth ouer, the rest." The folios read 
"jutty frieze" without a comma between, as \i jiitty were an adjective. 
It is not, however, found as an adjective, though it occuirs both as a sub- 
stantive and as- a verb. For the latter, see the passage just quoted from 
Cotgrave, and He7i. V. iii. i. 13 : 

" O'erhang and jutty his confounded base." 

S. uses the word only twice. 

7. Coign of vantage. " Convenient corner " (Johnson). Hunter thinks 
it means projecting corner. Dyce remarks that coign is a word of rare 
occurrence, and cites Sylvester's Dii Bartas : " Cape of Hope, last coign 
of Africa;" where the original has, not coin, but ^^ angle dernier d'Af- 
rique." S. uses the word only here and in Cor. v. 4. i, unless Fer. iii. 
prol. 1/ is to be added. 



ACT I. SCENE VII. 1 75 

9. Most The folios have "must," out of which Coll. says ''sense might 
be made." His MS. corrector has " much," Most is Rowe's emendation. 

11-14. The love, etc. " Duncan says that even love sometimes occa- 
sions him trouble, but that he thanks it as love, notwithstanding ; and 
that thus he teaches Lady Macbeth, while she takes trouble on his ac- 
count, to 'bid God yield,' or reward, him for giving that trouble " (Coll.). 

S. uses sometime and sometimes indifferently, both in this sense and as 
an adjective— former. See Mer. p. 130. 

God 'ield is a corruption of " God yield." The folios have " God-eyld." 
" God ild " and " God dild " are common forms of it in the old writers. 
Cf. A. V. L. iii. 3. 76 and v. 4. 56 ; A. and C. iv. 2. 33 ; Ham. iv. 5. 41, etc. 
For the colloquial contraction, cf " God gi' good-den " (" Godgigoden " 
in the folio) = God give you good-evening, in R. and y. i. 2. 58. 

15. Tivice done, etc. Moberly remarks that the division into two proc- 
esses intensifies the idea ; as in Milton, P. L. i. 742 : 

" from morn 
To noon he fell, from noon to dewy eve, 
A summer's day." * 

16. Single business. " That is, small business. . . . There is a whimsi- 
cal likeness and logical connection between this phrase and one which 
has lately come into vulgar vogue, ' a one-horse affair,' ' a one-horse town,' 
etc." (W.) Cf i. 3. 140 above. To contend agaijist — to vie with. 

17. Deep and broad. On the transposition of adjectives, see Gr. 419. 

19. To them. See Gr. 185, and cf iii. i. 51 below. 

20. Hermits. " We as hermits, or beadsmen, shall always pray for 
you" (Steevens). See Rich. II. p. 190, note on Beadsmen. 

21. Cours''d. Chased. Cf Tear, iii. 4. 58 : " to course his own shad- 
ow," etc. 

22. Purveyor. An officer sent forward to provide food for the king 
and his retinue, as the harbinger to obtain lodging. On the accent, see 
Gr. 492. 

23. Holp. Cf Rich. II. v. 5. 62 (see note in our ed. p. 218), Temp. i. 2. 
63, etc. Gr. 343. 

26. In compt. In account, accountable. Cf T. of A. ii. i. 35 ; A.W. 
V. 3. 57, etc. 

30. For the measure, see Gr. 492. 

31. By your leave. " Here Duncan gives his hand to Lady Macbeth, 
and leads her into the castle" (C. P. ed.). 

Scene VII. — On sewer in the stage direction, see Wb. and Nares. Cf. 
also Rich. II. p. 216, foot-note. 

I, 2. The punctuation given is essentially that of the folios, and is fol- 
lowed by most of the editors. W. points it thus : 

" If it were done when 't is done, then 't were well. 
It were done quickly if th' assassination 
Could trammel," etc. 

* Moberly (probably quoting from memory) gives the passage thus : 
" From eve to morn, from mom to dewy eve, 
From eve to mom he fell." 



176 NOTES. 

This reading was suggested by G. Blinl^ [Notes and Queries, May 25, 
1850), and was ably defended by a writer in the Boston Courier, April 25, 
1857, as the following extracts from his article (quoted by Furness) will 
show : 

" The ' if means, if, when the murder is committed, there were the end 
of it. So Schiller, in his admirable translation of the play, clearly dis- 
cerns it : 'War' es auch abgethan, wenn es gethan ist, Dann war' es gut, 
es wiirde rasch gethan !' . . , The words 'It were done quickly' sound 
supernumerary and out of place, as they are generally recited. They 
hang like an encumbrance. They clog the movement of the verse. 
Above all, they drag in a new and inferior thought, after the great argu- 
ment has been sufficiently pronounced. Cut them off, then, from their 
connection with the preceding line, which they do but cumber, and see 
what new force you will give to the whole soliloquy : 

' If it were done when 'tis done, then 'tv/ere well.' 
There is the full theme and true key-note of the piece. It is complete 
in itself. It prepares the way for all that follows. It announces the 
terrible problem with which Macbeth's unsteady purpose was wrestling. 
It reminds us of the first line of Hamlet's bewildered self-confidence : 
' To be, or not to be ; that is the question.' The speaker may well 
pause, in both cases, when he comes to that point of the awful debate. 
And there the rather, because by such a course the sentence that follows 
will be as much enriched by what it gains as the sentence that precedes 
is relieved by what it surrenders. The clause, that seemed almost im- 
pertinent where it stood, becomes a reinforcement in its new relation : 

' It were done quickly, if the assassination 
Could trammel up the consequence,' etc. 

Observe how much clearer and more compact the rest of the period be- 
comes by beginning it in this new way. 

" Macbeth professes to defy religion, and to care nothing for the 
threatened retributions of another worM ; but he dreads the avenging of 
his crimes 'here:' 'But here, upon this bank and shoal of Time.' This 
description, by the way, of the guilty thane, thinking only of the earth, 
with its shattering fortunes, and of the present life with its ' petty space ' 
and its ' brief candle,' its creeping to-morrows and its yesterdays, that do 
nothing but light fools to their death, is wondrously sustained in every 
part of the play, till at last he cries out in despair : 

' I 'gin to grow aweary of the sun. 
And wish the estate o' the world were now undone.' " 

If we retain the old pointing — which seems best, on the whole — the 
meaning is : " If the act were really over when done, then the sooner we 
accomplish it the better." The sentences which follow are thus para- 
phrased by Moberly : " If the murder could be like a net, taking in all 
consequences at a single haul, and bringing up, as the haul ceases, a conclu- 
sive and final success ; if only the blow could end all apprehensions here 
in this life, shallow- as it is, we might risk the life to come. Bui it is not 
so ; besides the great future, there is a nearer future of temporal retri- 
bution, which we teach others to execute on ourselves." 



ACT I. SCEME VII. lyy 

3. Trammel up. Entangle as in a net, A ^r^ww^-/ was a kind of net. 
Cf. Quarles, Emblems: "Nay, Cupid, pitch thy trammel where thou 
please." In Spenser it is a net for the hair ; as in F. Q. ii. 2, 15: 

"Her golden lockes she roundly did upt^'e 
In breaded tramels" (that is, braided nets); 
and Id. iii, 9. 20 : 

" Her golden locks, that were in trammells gay 
Upbounden, did them selves adovvne disjjlay 
And raught unto her heeles." 

4. His sjircease. Its conclusion, or cessation. On ///'j-mits, see Gr. 228, 
and cf. Te7np. p. 120, note on With it's siveet ai?: Surcease (see Wb.) has 
no etymological connection with cease, being derived from the Fr. surseoir 
(Lat. supersedere). S. uses it as a noun only here ; but as a verb in R. 
of L. 1766, Cor. iii. 2. 121, and R. and J. iv. I. 97. 

Success. Used in its ordinary sense ; as in i. 3. 90, 132, and i. 5. 1 
above. St. takes it here as = " sequel, what follows," making "to catchy 
with his surcease, success,'''' an " enforcement of ' trammel up the conse- 
quence.' " He paraphrases the passage thus : " If the assassination 
were an absolutely final act, and could shut up all consecution — ' be the 
be-all and the end-all ' even of this life only — v/e would run the hazard of 
a future state." On success in this sense, see y. C p. 151, note on Opin- 
ions of success ; and cf. T. and C. ii. 2. 117 : " fear of bad success," etc. 

6. But here. Only here, only in this life. 

Shoal. The folios have " Schoole," which some critics would retain. 
Ehvin says: "Bank is used for bejtch, and time for mortal life: which, 
qualified as a bench and school of instrtiction, is placed in antithesis to the 
life to come. Here the idea of calling this life the school of eternity, as pre- 
paring man for the part he is to perform there, is not only thoroughly in 
accordance with the truthful genius of Shakespeare, but it is beautifully 
sustained in the expressions that follow it, 'that we but teach \Aoo^^ 
instruction.' The feeling expressed is this : If here only, upon this bench 
of instruction, in this school of eternity, I could do this without bringing 
these, my pupil days, under sufl'ering, I would hazard its effect on the 
endless life to come." 

Theo. first suggested shoal, explaining it : " This Shallow, this narrow 
Ford of humane Life, opposed to the great Abyss of Ettrnity." 

7. Jump. For ju7np = risk, hazard, cf. Cor. iii. i. 154: "To jump a 
body with a dangerous physic;" Cymb. v. 4. 188: "jump the after in- 
quiry on your own peril." 

8. That. So that ; as in line 25 below. Gr. 283. 

II. Commends. Offers, commits. Cf. Rich. II. iii. 3. 116 : " His glit- 
tering arms he will commend to rust ;" A. and C iv. 8. 23 : " Commend 
unto his lips thy favouring hand," etc. See also iii. i. 38 below. 

17. Faculties. Ofiicial powers or prerogatives. The C. P. ed. cites 
Hen. VIlI. i. 2. 73, where Wolsey says : 

" If I am 
Traduced by ignorant tongues, which neither know 
My faculties nor person." 

20. Taking-off. Delius cites Lear, v. i. 65 : " His speedy taking off." 
See also iii. i. 104 below. 

M 



lyg NOTES. 

21. A naked new-born babe. "Either like a mortal babe terrible in 
helplessness; or like heaven's child - angels, mighty in love and com- 
passion" (Moberly). 

22. Cheritbin. Cf. Temp. \. 2. 152: "a cherubin," and see note in our 
ed. p. 115. Some editors print "cherubim" here, but that form is found 
nowhere in the folio. Malone remarks that the thought seems to have 
been borrowed from Psalms, xviii. 10 ; and the C. P. ed. quotes R. and 
J. ii. 2. 28-31. 

23. Sightless. See on i. 5. 47. 

25. that tears, etc. See on 8 above. Cf T. and C. iv. 4. 55 : " Where 
are my tears ? Rain, to lay this wind." 

I have no spur, etc. Malone says : " There are two distinct metaphors. 
1 have no spur to prick the sides of my intent : 1 have nothing to stimu- 
late me to the execution of my purpose, but ambition, which is apt to 
overreach itself; this he expresses by the second image, of a person 
meaning to vault into his saddle, who, by taking too great a leap, will 
fall on the other side." 

28. On the other. That is, the other side; but there is no necessity for 
supplying " side," as Hanmer, Keightley, and others have done. As H. 
remarks, " the sense /^^/j better without it, as this shows the speaker to 
be in such an eagerly expectant state of mind as to break off the instant 
he had a prospect of any news." 

32. Bought. " Acquired, gained " (Schmidt) ; a figurative use of the 
word natural enough, and common in S. Cf L. L. L. i. i. 5 : 

" The endeavour of this present breath may buv 
That honour;" 

Hen. VIII. i. I. 65 : 

" The force of his own merit makes his way ; 
A gift that heaven gives for him, which buys 
A place next to the king," etc. 

Cf. the use oi purchase in Rich. II. i. 3. 282 and M. of V. ii. 9, 43. 

34. Would. See Gr. 329.' 

35. Was the hope drimk, etc. "A somewhat violent mixture of meta 
phors ; but the sense is clear. ' Were you drunk when you formed your 
bold plan, and are you now just awake from the debauch, to be crest- 
fallen, shrinking, mean-spirited V " (Moberly). Cf Gr. 529 (4). For a 
similar figure, without the "mixture," see K. John, iv. 2. 116. 

37. Green and pale. "This refers to the wretched appearance that 
Hope presents on awaking from her drunkenness, and in consequence 
of it" (Delius, quoted by Furness). 

41. Wouldst thou have, etc. Do you desire the crown, yet resolve to 
jive a coward because your daring will not second your desire .? Moberly 
substitutes leave for have, explaining it : " Would you forsake that cour- 
age which you have always viewed as the ornament of life, and be like 
the cat who* longed for fish but would not wet her feet." 

* This use o'iivho in referring to irrational animals is not uncommon in good English 
writers of our day. Even Mr. Grant White has ' ' a dog who " in one of his papers 'n the 
Galaxy. On tlie Shakespearian usage, see Gr. 259 (2] and 264. 



ACT I. SCENE VII. j-jg 

45. TAe poor cat, etc. Johnson quotes the Low Latin form of the 
proverb : " Catus amat pi^res, sed non vult tingere plantas." In French 
it is " Le chat aime le poisson, mais il n'aime pas a mouiller ses pattes " 
(Peck). Boswell finds it among Heywood's Proverbs, 1566 : " The cate 
would eate fishe, and would not wet her feete." 

47. Do more. Rowe's emendation for the " no more " of the folios. 
Hunter would retain the old reading, and give the line to Lady Macbeth. 

What beast, etc. " If, as you imply, this enterprise be not the device 
of a mail, what beast induced you to propose it ?" (Elwin). The antithesis 
oi beast and man seems natural enough, but Hunter would read "What 
was 't then," and the Coll. MS. has " What boast was 't," which is de- 
fended by a writer in Blackwood'' s Magazine (Oct. 1853) quoted by Fur- 
ness. 

Steevens cites M.for M. ii. 4. 134 : 

" Be that you are, 
That is, a woman ; if j-ou be more, you're none. " 

48. B?'eak. Here followed by to, as it would be now, but often, in S. 
by with ; as in J. C. ii. i. 150; IIe7i. VIII. v. i. 47 (see note in our ed. 
p. 197), etc. 

50. To be. On the use of the infinitive, see Gr. 356. 

52. Adhere. Cohere, "be in accordance " (Schmidt). Cf. M. W. ii. i. 
62 and T. N. iii. 4. 86. 

53. That their fitness. Abbott (Gr. 239) commenting on "that mouth 
of thine " {K. John, iii. I. 299), remarks : " ' This your mouth ' requiring 
a forced and unnatural pause after 'this,' was somewhat more objection- 
able to S. than to the Latin style of Milton and Addison ;" and then 
adds, in a foot-note : " See, however, 'this our lofty scene,' J. C. ii. i. 1 12." 
The present passage affords another example ; and (if we adopt the 
reading of the ist folio) yet another occurs in A. and C. ii. 3. 19 : " that 
thy spirit which keeps thee." * See also ii. 2. 61 and iii. 6. 48 below. 

58. The brains. As the C. P. ed. remarks, we should now say "its 
brains," but the is found not unfrequently for the possessive pronoun. 
Cf. the version oi Lev. xxv. 5 in the Bishops' Bible : "That vi^hich grow- 
eth of the owne accord of thy harvest, thou shalt not reape ;" and Bacon, 
Adv. of L. i. 4. I. : " For we see that it is the manner of men to scandal- 
ize and deprave that which retaineth the state and virtue." 

59. We fail. The folio prints "we faile ?" Most eds. have "We 
fail !" but K., H., and Sr. (2d ed.), " We fail." K. says : " We prefer the 
quiet self-possession of the punctuation we have adopted." D. remarks : 
" W^hether the words be pointed ' We fail !' or ' W^e fail .'" (and I much 
prefer the former method), they can only be understood as an impatient 
and contemptuous repetition of Macbeth's 'we fail, — .' A7iy kind of 
admission on the part of Lady Macbeth that the attempt might prove 
unsuccessful appears to me quite inconsistent with all that she has previ- 
ously said, and all that she afterwards says, in the present scene. She 

* The 2d folio has "that's thy spirit," which is adopted by many editors, as the 
passage in North's Plutarch which S. evidently copied reads : " For thy demon, said 
he (that is to say, the good angel and spirit that keepeth thee), is afraid," etc 



i8o NOTES. 

hastily interrupts her husband, checking the very idea of failure as it 
rises in his mind." 

Mrs. Jameson says : " In her impersonation of the part of Lady Mac- 
beth, Mrs. Siddons adopted successively three different intonaiions in 
giving the words we fail. At first a quick contemptuous interrogation 
— '■we fail ?^ Afterwards with the note of admiration — ' we fail P and an 
accent of indignant astonishment, laying the principal emphasis on the 
word zve — zve fail ! Lastly, she fixed on what I am convinced is the true 
reading — 'we fail.' with the simple period, modulating her voice to a 
deep, low, resolute tone, which settled the issue at once — as though she 
had said, ' if we fail, why then we fail, and all is over.' This is consistent 
wdth the dark fatalism of the character and the sense of the line follow- 
ing, and the effect was sublime, almost awful." 

Compare what Fletcher (see p. 24) says : " Her quiet reply, ' We 
fail,' is every way most characteristic of the speaker — expressing that 
moral firmness in herself which makes her quite prepared to endure the 
consequences of failure — and, at the same time, conveying the most de- 
cisive rebuke of such moral cowardice in her husband as can make him 
recede from a purpose merely on account of the possibility of defeat^ — a 
possibility which, up to the very completion of their design, seems never 
absent from her own mind, though she finds it necessary to banish it 
from that of her husband." 

60. But screw your courage, etc. " A metaphor perhaps taken from 
the screwing up the chords of stringed instruments" (Steevens). Cf. 
Cor. i. 8. II : " Wrench up thy power to the highest ;" T. N. v. I. 125 : 

" And that I partly know the instrument 
That screws me from my true place in your favour." 

Cf. also T. and C. iii. 3. 22 : 

" But this Antenor, 
I know, is such a wrest in their affairs 
That their negotiations all must slack, 
Wanting his manage." 

The C. P. ed. remarks that, as a wrest is an instrument for tuning a harp, 
this last passage favours Steevens's interpretation of the metaphor.* 

64. Wassail. Cf L. L. L. v. 2. 318 : " At wakes and wassails ;" Ham. 
i. 4. 9 : "keeps wassail," etc. For the origin of the word, see Wb. 
Milton has wassailers in Comus, 179 : "such late wassailers." 

Convince. Overcome (Lat. convincere) ; as in iv. 3. 142 below. See 
also 0th. iv. i. 28. On the literal use of Greek and Latin derivatives in 
the Elizabethan writers, see Gr. p. 12. 

65-67. The C. P. ed. remarks : " By the old anatomists (Vigo, fol. 6 b. 
ed. 1586) the brain was divided into three ventricles, in the hindermost of 
which they placed the memory. That this division was not unknown to 
Shakespeare we learn from L. L. L. iv. 2. 70 : 'A foolish, extravagant 

* Mr. Neil, in his ed. of Macbeth (Edinburgh, 1876), has the following curious note on 
this passage: '■''sticking //^c^— fixed pomt, with a covert allusion to the death-dealing 
spot chosen by the butcher. So [j/c] in the GorgioHS Gallery of Gallant Inventors^ 

^57° • < Which flowre out of my hande shall never passe, 

But in my harte shall have a sticking place.' " 



ACT I. SCENE Vii. l8i 

spirit, full of forms, figures, shapes, objects, ideas, apprehensions, motions, 
revolutions ; these are begot in the ventricle of memory.' The third 
ventricle is the cerebellum, by which the brain is connected with the 
spinal marrow and the rest of the body ; the memory is posted in the 
cerebellum like a warder or sentinel to warn the reason against attack, 
when the memory is converted by intoxication into a mere fume (cf. 
Temp. V. I. 67 : 

' The ignorant fumes that mantle 
Then- clearer reason'), 

then it fills the brain itself, the receipt or receptacle of reason, which thus 
becomes like an alembic or cap of a still. ¥ox fume, cf Cymb. iv. 2. 301 ; 

' A bolt of nothing, shot at nothing, 
Which the brain makes of fumes.' 

And Dryden's Aurengzebe : 

* Power like new wine does your weak brain surprise. 
And its mad fumes in hot discourses rise.' 

See also A. and C. ii. i. 24 : 

' Tie up the libertine in a field of feasts, 
Keep his brain fuming.' " 

66. Receipt " Receptacle " (Schmidt) ; the only instance of this mean- 
ing in S. Cf Matt. ix. 9 : " the receipt of custom." The C. P. ed. quotes 
Bacon, Essay 46 : "a faire receipt of water " (the basin of a fountain). 

6"]. Lhnbeck. Alembic. See Wb. Cf Milton, /*. Z. iii. 605 : "Drain'd 
through a limbec." 

68. A death. " The article may be used because it is only a kind of 
death, a sleep, which is meant " (C. P. ed.). Cf IV. T. iv. 2. 3. 

71. Spongy. "Imbibing like a sponge" (Schmidt). Cf T. and C. ii. 
2. 12 : "More spongy to suck in the sense of fear." 

72. Quell. Murder ; a euphemism, according to Schmidt. Quell in 
Old English =/^z7/, which is originally the same word. See Wb. Cf. 
Spenser, F. Q. ii. 7, 40 : 

" and well could weld 
That cursed weapon, when his cruell foes he queld; 

and Id. v. 10, 36 : 

" he did him quell, 
And, hewing off his head, he it presented 
Before the feete of the faire Pastorell." 

Man-qiieller (=manslayer, murderer) occurs in 2 Hen. IV. ii. i. 58. The 
C. P. ed. says that the same compound is used by Wiclif for " execution- 
er " in translating Mark, vi. 27, and for " murderer," Acts, xxviii. 4. Ac- 
cording to Nares, the redoubtable "Jack" was formerly called "the 
giant-queller," instead of the more modern "giant-killer." 

73. Mettle. In the early eds. no distinction is made between metal 
and mettle. See Rich. II. p. 157, note on That metal. 

74. Receiv'd. Accepted as true, believed. Cf M. for M. i. 3. 16 : 

" For so I have strew* d it in the common ear, 
And so it is receiv'd;" 

T. G. of V. V. 4. 78 : " And once again I do receive thee honest." 



l82 



NOTES. 



77. Other. Otherwise. See Gr. 12. 

79. Bend lip. Strain, like a bow. Cf. Hen. V.'m. i. 16: 

" Hold hard the breath, and bend up everv spirit 
To his full height." 

80. Each corporal agent. All my bodily powers. 

81. Mock the time. See on i. 5. 61. 




ACT 11. 

Scene I. — The old stage direction says nothing about " a servant with 
a torch," as in many modern eds. ; though, as D. remarks, " a Torch " 

irer, as " a Trumpet " means a trumpeter. 



sometimes means a torch- 



4. Hold, take my sword, etc. Flathe, to whose perverse opinion of the 
character of Banquo we have already referred (p. 165 above), comments 
on this speech as follows : 

" Banquo enters with his son Fleance, who holds a torch. Will not 
the man do something at last for his king, take some measures to prevent 
a cruel crime } Everything combines to enjoin the most careful watch- 
fulness upon him, if duty and honour are yet quick within his breast ; 
and here we come to a speech of Banquo's to his son to which we must 
pay special heed, since upon it the earlier English commentators, Steev- 
ens among them, have based their ridiculous theory that in this tragedy 
Banquo, :n contrast to Macbe^i, who is led astray, represents the man 



ACT II. SCENE L 



183 



unseduced by evil. Steevens says that this passage shows that Banquo 
too is tempted by the witches in his dreams to do something in aid of the 
fulfilment of his hopes, and that in his waking hours he holds himself 
aloof from all such suggestions, and hence his prayer to be spared the 
' cursed thoughts that nature gives way to in repose.' 

" A stranger or more forced explanation of this passage can hardly be 
imagined. . . . As he has already done, Banquo here endeavours as far 
as possible to assert his own innocence to himself, while, for the sake of 
his future advantage, he intends to oppose no obstacle to the sweep of 
Macbeth's sword. It is, therefore, necessary that he should pretend to 
himself that here in Macbeth's castle no danger can threaten Duncan nor 
any one else. Therefore his sword need not rest by his side this night, 
and he gives it to his son. He must be able to say to himself, in the 
event of any fearful catastrophe, ' I never thought of or imagined any 
danger, and so I laid aside my arms.' 

" And yet, try as he may, he cannot away with the stifling sensation of 
a tempest in the air, a storm-cloud destined to burst over Duncan's head 
this very night. He cannot but acknowledge to himself that a certain 
restless anxiety in his brain is urging him, in spite of his weariness, to 
remain awake during the remaining hours of the night. But this mood, 
these sensations, must not last, or it might seem a sacred duty either to 
hasten to the chamber of King Duncan or to watch it closely, that its 
occupant may be shielded from murderous wiles. To avoid this, Banquo 
denounces the thoughts of Macbeth that arise in his mind as ' cursed 
thoughts.' So detestably false are they that a merciful Power must be 
entreated to restrain them during sleep, when the mind is not to be com- 
pletely controlled. 

" With every change in the aspect of affairs Banquo's self-deceit ap- 
pears in some new form. Banquo here banishes his thoughts from his 
mind, or rather maintains to himself that he has banished them, or that 
he must banish them because they do injustice to noble Macbeth, whom, 
nevertheless, he has thought it necessary to warn against the devil." 

Husbandry. Thrift, economy. Cf. IIa77i. i. 3. 77 : " borrowing dulls 
the edge of husbandry." . 

5. Their. S. several times uses heaven as plural. Cf Rich. II. i. 2. 7 : 

" Put we our quarrel to the will of heaven : 
Who, when they see the hours ripe on earth, 
Will ram hot vengeance on offenders' heads ;" 

and see note in our ed. p. 157. 

For the metaphor, cf M. of V. v. i. 220 : " these blessed candles of the 
night ;" R. and J. iii. 5. 9 : " Night's candles are burnt out ;" and Sonn. 
21. 12 : " those gold candles fix'd in heaven's air." 

Take thee that too. Probably a dirk or dagger. Elwin says : "Banquo 
has put from him his several weapons of defence from horror at the par- 
ticular use his dreams have prompted him to make of them." More 
likely, as the C. P. ed. suggests, it was because in a friend's house he felt 
perfectly secure. 

Abbott (Gr. 212) considers that thee is a dative here. 

^. Heavy. " Drowsy, sleepy " (Schmidt) ; as often. Ci. R. of L. \2\^ 



i84 NOTES. 

163, 1574; Temp. i. 2. 189, 194, 198 ; M. for M. iv. i. 35 ; M. N. D. v. i. 
380, etc. 

14. Offices. The servants' quarters. Cf. Rich. II. i. 2. 69, and see note 
in our eel. p. 159. Rowe, D., St., and others read "officers" here. 

16. ShiLtup. "That is, concluded "(Steevens). Malone quotes Stowe's 
Annals : " the king's majestic shut up all with a pithy exhortation." 
Schmidt explains the passage thus : " Summed up all that he had to 
say, in expressing his measureless content." The 2d folio has " shut 
it up;" and Hunter says that "it" is "undoubtedly the jewel in its 
case !" 

18. Oicr will, etc. "Our entertainment was necessarily defective, and 
we only had it in our power to show the king our williitgness to serve 
him. Had we received sufficient notice of his coming, our zeal should 
have been more clearly manifested by our acts. Which refers to wiir'' 
(Malone). 

In other words, our will had to submit to our deficient means instead 
of being free to carry out our wishes. 

On the adverbial use o{ free, see Gr. i ; and on the metrical lengthen- 
ing of wrought, Gr. 484. On weird in the next line, see Gr. 485. 

22. When, etc. When we can ask you to put an hour at our service. 
" Now that the crown is within his grasp he seems to adopt the royal 
' we ' by anticipation " (C. P. ed.). 

Sheridan Knowles comments on this speech of Macbeth's and the con- 
text as follows : "What is the meaning of this ? A sudden thought of 
precaution that when the murder is discovered — as of course it must be 
— this mention of a consultation with reference to the third prophetic 
' All Hail,' — the promise of royal having — this hint of some enterprise to 
be attempted with a view to the fulfilment of that promise (for it is noth- 
ing else but a hint to that effect) may help to keep him clear from sus- 
picion on the part of Banquo that he has had any hand in letting out the 
blood that is destined to flow that night. Banquo's reply (' so 1 keep My 
bosom franchis'd,' etc.) clearly establishes the fact. It is a matter that 
may involve the question of honour and loyalty." 

24. Kindest. See Gr. 473, and cf " stern'st "■ (ii. 2. 4), " near'st " (iii. i. 
118), and "secret'st" (iii. 4. 126) below. 

25. If yon, etc* If you adhere to my party whenever it is established. 
As Johnson says, "Macbeth expresses his thought with affected obscu- 
rity ; he does not mention the royalty, though he apparently had it in his 
mind." W. remarks : "' This may mean, to those who agree with me, to 
my party. But I think there is not improbably a misprint of ' consort.' 
As in T. G. of V. iv. i. 64 : ' Wilt thou be of our consort .**' and in Lear^ 
ii. I. 99 : ' He was of that consort' " 

In Davenant's version of Macbeth, this passage reads : 

" If when the Prophesie begins to look like truth 
You will adhere to me, it shall make honour for you." 

28. Franchis^d. " Free, unstained, innocent " (Schmidt). 
31. My drink. " This night-cup or posset was an habitual indulgence 
of the time " (E^lwin). Cf, ii. 2. 6 : "I have drugg'd their possets." 



ACT II. SCENE I. 



185 



32. She strike. See Gr, 311, 369. 

33. Is this a dagger, etc. " A delusion appearing after the manner of 
the Highland second sight ; more substantial than the 'image of murder ' 
which shakes his soul in i, 4, but not accepted and believed by him like 
the apparition of Banquo afterwards" (Moberly). 

Sheridan Knowles remarks : " I have long entertained the opinion that 
this dagger is not, as Macbeth assumes it to be, simply 

' A dagger of the mind. . . . 
Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain ;' 

but on the contrary, an apparition coming and vanishing, as the witche.s 
themselves do, and that consequently it ought to be actually presented, 
as indeed it used to be. In my mind the whole thing is too circumstan- 
tial, bears too much upon the action, to justify the common interpreta- 
tion which coincides with that of Macbeth. It is a phantom raised by 
the witches to draw Macbeth on to his conclusion. It is the supernat- 
ural coadjutor of Lady Macbeth, dumbly but u'resistibly persuading him 
to the deed. He falters yet. Yes ! upon the very threshold of guilt he 
is faltering. But the evil agency of which he is the victim is at hand 
with the dagger, shows him the instrument he was to use, ])resents it to 
him with its handle towards him, inviting him to clutch it as he attempts 
to do, marshals for him with it the way he was to go ; nor withdraws it 
then, but while he is yet in doubt whether it is substance or shadow that 
he looks upon, ends the debate 'by exhibiting it to him stained with gouts 
of blood — 

* Which was not so before.' 

Macbeth's interpretation of the vision is not to be taken as the truth. 
It is not 

' The bloody business which informs 
Thus to his eyes.' " 

Compare what Roffe * says on this point : 

"The Spiritualist, when contending for the absolute objectivity of 
Banquo's Ghost, may possibly be asked whether he also claims a like 
reality for ' the air-drawn dagger.' To this he would reply, that, to the 
best of his belief, a like reality was not to be affirmed of that dagger, 
which he coiiceives to have been a representation, in the spiritual world, 
of a dagger, not however being on that account less real (if by unreality 
we are to understand that it was, in some incomprehensible way, gener- 
ated in the material brain), but only differing from what we should term 
a real bond fide dagger, as a painting of a dagger differs from a real 
one. 

"That the spiritual world must have its representations as well as its 
realities, is a point which has already been touched upon, and this dagger, 
called by Lady Macbeth 'the air-drawn dagger,' we suppose to be one 
of those representations. Its objective reality, however, still remains 
untouched ; for, once grant that the spiritual world is a real world — nay, 
the most real world — and it follows that whatsoever is represented in it 

* An Essay tipon the Ghost Belief of Shakespeare, hy A. Roffe (Privately printed 
London, 1851), quoted by Furuess. 



l86 NOTES. 

has its basis in reality, as much as an imitative dagger in a painting has 

its basis in the colours and canvas, which are also realities. . . . 

" Mr. Fletcher maintains that Banquo's Ghost should be no more vis- 
ible on the stage than the air-drawn dagger. We fully believe that there 
is a most powerful stage-reason, namely, intelligibility, for making the 
Ghost of Banquo visible to the theatre ; but that reason does not apply 
to the dagger — because what is spoken by Macbeth makes intelligible all 
that he experiences with respect to that dagger. Also, when we go on to 
perceive that the spiritual world has, and must have, not only its realities, 
but its representations likewise — of which last the dagger is apparently 
one — we have an additional argument still to show that the reasoning 
which may belong to Banquo's Ghost would not necessarily apply, in all 
its points, to this appearance of the dagger." 

34. Tozvard. S. used tozvard and towards (see line 55 below) inter- 
changeably, or as either suited his ear ; at least, both are found in the 
early eds. Cf. i. 3. 152, i. 4. 27, i. 6, 30, v. 4. 21, etc. 

36. Sensible. " Perceptible, tangible " (Schmidt). See Gr. 3. Cf. M. 
of V. ii. 9. 89 : "sensible regreets ;" and see note in our ed. p. 145. 

41. Abbott remarks (Gr. 511) that Macbeth may be supposed to draw 
his dagger after this short line. 

44, 45. Either my eyes are deceived while the other senses are not, or 
they are more trustworthy than the latter. 

46. Dicdgeon. This undoubtedly means here the handle of a dagger, 
but its derivation is disputed. According to several early authorities 
and Wedgwood, it originally meant "the root of the box-tree," and was 
then applied to dagger-handles made of that wood. E. Coles, Abr. 
Fleming, and the Cambridge Diet, of 1693 (cited by Nares) all explain 
"dudgeon-haft " as mannbriitm apiatum or buxeum. Bishop Wilkins, in 
the Alphabetical Diet, appended to his Essay towards a Real Character, 
1668, gives '''Dudgeon, root of box," and '•'Dudgeon-dagger, a small sword 
whose handle is of the root of box.'''' Gerrard, in his Herball, under the 
article Box-tree, says : " The root is likewise yellow, and harder than the 
timber, but of greater beauty, and more fit for dagger-hafts, boxes, and 
such like uses. . . . Turners and cutlers, if I mistake not the matter, doe 
call this wood dudgeon, wherewith they make dtidgeon-hafted daggers." 
Gififord (notes on Ben Jonson) thinks it means simply wooden, and that 
a " dudgeon-hafted dagger " was so called to distinguish it from those 
that had more costly handles ; whence it became a term of contempt in 
other connections. Thus in B. and F. [The Captain, ii. i) we find " I am 
plain and dudgeon ;" that is, coarse, rude. Richardson [Diet. s. v.), on 
the other hand, denies that it primarily means either box-root or wooden, 
and cites Holland's Pliny, xvi. 16 : "Now for the box-tree, the wood 
thereof is in as great request as the very best ; seldom hath it any 
graine crisped damaske wise, and never but about the root, the which is 
dudgin and full of worke." Here it seems to mean tough, or strong; 
and Richardson thinks it may be derived from. the Dutch dooghen, A. S. 
dugan, to be strong. For a different derivation, see Wb. 

Gouts. Drops {¥x. goutte). Steevens quotes The Art of Good Lyving 
and Good Deyng, 1503 ; " Befor the jugement all herbys shal sweyt read 



ACT II. SCENE L 187 

goutys of water, as blood." Halliwell [Archaic Diet.) states that "gowtyth 
for droppeth occurs in an early English MS, mentioned in Arch. xxx. 408." 

48. Informs. Schmidt and Moberly make this = creates forms; the 
C. P. ed., "gives information." Cf. i. 5. 31. 

49. The one half world. Commonly printed " the one half-world," but 
the hyphen is not in the early eds., and without it as with it the meaning 
is evidently half the world. Cf. i Hen. IV. iv. i. 136: "this one half 
year." On the pronunciation oi one in the time of S., see Gr. 80. 

50. Abuse. Deceive ; though Schmidt thinks it may also mean to 
misuse, pervert. Cf. Temp. v. i. 112 : "some enchanted trifle to abuse 
me ;" Much Ado, v. 2. 100 : " the prince and Claudio mightily abused," 
etc. In iii. 4. 142, "self- abuse" means self-deception. Cf! abusion 
( — illusion) in Spenser, F. Q. ii. 11, 11 : 

" For by those ugly formes weren pourtrayd 
Foolish delights and fond abusions, 
Which doe that sence besiege with light illusions." 

51. The curtain'' d sleep. To help out the metre Rowe (following Dav- 
enant) inserted "now" before "witchcraft;" and Steevens suggested 
"sleeper.'" But see Gr. 484. 

52. Hecate's. A dissyllable. Cf. Tear, i, i. 112: "The mysteries of 
Hecate and of night ;" Ham. iii. 2. 269 : " With Hecate's ban thrice 
blasted, thrice infected.". See also iii. 2. 41 and iii. 5. i below. 

53. Alarum''d. The same word as alarmed. See Wb. The deriva- 
tion (Ital. air arjne) may be illustrated by Holland's livy, p. 331 : " This 
sayd, he runs downe with as great a noyse and showting as he could, 
crying, aP ari7ie^ help help citizens, the castle is taken by the enemic, 
come away to defense," 

54. Whose howl 'j his watch. " Who marks the periods of his night- 
watch by howling, as the sentinel by a cry " (C. P. ed.). 

55. Strides. The folios have "sides," which K. in his ist ed. retained, 
making it a verb = matches. Moberly, who also has "sides," thinks it 
possible that it may be " a form of the A. S. sith, a step." Johnson sug- 
gested "slides" as more in keeping with "stealthy pace." Steevens 
cites Spenser, F. Q. iv. 8, 37 : " With easie steps so soft as foot could 
stryde;" and Harrington's Ariosto, 1591 : "He takes a long and leisur- 
able stride." Warb. quotes Rich. II. i. 3. 268, and J. Sylvester (in Eng- 
land's Parnassus, 1600) : 

" Anon he stalketh with an easy stride, 
By some clear river's lillie-paved side." 

57. My steps, which way, etc. See Gr. 414. 

58. As Z. Grey suggests, an allusion probably to luke, xix. 40. . The 
C. P. ed. compares R. of I. 302-306. 

Whereabout. Delius remarks that elsewhere S. uses where and where- 
fore as substantives. See Tear, i. i. 264, and C. of E. ii. 2. 45, We may 
add wherewith in P. P. 408 : " Whilst thou hast wherewith to spend." 
Cf. wherewithal in He7i. VIII. i. 3. 59. 

59. And take, etc. That is, break the universal silence that added 
such a horror to the night as suited well with the bloody deed he was 



i88 NOTES. 

about to perform (Steevens). Malone cites Virgil, j^n. ii. 755 : "Horror 
ubique animos, simul ipsa silentia terrent." Delius thinks that it refers 
to "my whereabout." 

60. Whiles. See on i. 5. 5. On threat, see Rich. II. p. 195. 

61. The C. P. editors consider this line a "feeble tag" which S. could 
not have penned. On gives, see Gr. 333. 

62. The bell invites vie. A "pre-arranged summons." See extract 
from W. just below. 

63. Knell. "Alluding to the passing bell which was formerly tolled 
when a person was dying " (Elwin). 

Scene IT. — The folio has " Scena Secunda " her«, but some editors 
(as Rowe, Theo., D., St., W., and J. Hunter) make no change of scene. 
W. remarks : " The apparent continuance of the action is vitally essen- 
tial to the dramatic impression intended to be produced. The ringing 
of the bell by Lady M., the exit oi Macbeth upon that pre-arranged sum- 
mons, the entrance of the lady to fill the stage and occupy the mind 
during her husband's brief absence upon his fearful errand, and to con- 
fess in soliloquy her active accession to the murder, the sudden knocking 
which is heard directly after she goes out to replace the daggers, and 
which recurs until she warily hurries her husband and herself away lest 
they should be found watchers, the entrance of the Porter, and finally of 
Macduff 2ind Lenox, — all this action is contrived with consummate dra- 
matic skill ; and its unbroken continuity in one spot, and that a part of 
the castle common to all its inhabitants, is absolutely necessary to com- 
plete its purpose." 

We adhere to the old division of scenes solely to avoid confusion in 
referring to this part of the play. The Globe ed. follows the folio here. 

I. That which hath made them drunk, etc. The C. P. ed. says : " Lady 
Macbeth had had recourse to wine in order to support her courage." 
Moberly explains it: " 'I am emboldened by the guard's intoxication;' 
not, surely, ' I have given myself courage with wine.' She had taunted 
Macbeth with a 'drunken hope;' and such a mode of raising her own 
spirit seems thoroughly alien from her character." 

Mrs. Griffiths {Morality of Shakespeare's Dramas, p. 412, quoted by 
Furness) remarks : " Our sex is obliged to Shakespeare for this passage. 
He seems to think that a woman could not be rendered completely 
wicked without some degree of intoxication. It required two vices in 
her, one to intend and another to perpetrate the crime." 

Moberly's explanation seems rather forced ; and the other, we think, 
goes too far in assuming that the lady was intoxicated. In saying " That 
which hath made them drunk," she implies that she herself was not 
drunk. Is anything more meant than that she had taken her regular 
night-cup (see on ii. i. 31 above), and that she felt the slightly stimulat- 
ing effect of the "posset.'"' The grooms would not have been "drunk," 
or stupefied, if their possets had not been drugged. 

3. The owl. " Tschischwitz, in his Nachkldnge germanischer Mythe, ii. 
30, points out that the superstitious associations connected with the owl 



ACT II. SCENE II. 189 

are common to both England and Germany ; indeed, that some of them 
belong to the whole Indo-Germanic family. They were rife among the 
Romans. See Ovid, Met. v. 550. See also Harting, Ornilhology of Shake- 
speare, p. 83 " (Furness). 

The fa.al bellvian, etc. The C. P. ed. remarks that the full significance 
of this passage may be best shown by com[mring the following lines from 
Webster's Duchess of Malji, iv. 2, where Bosola tells the Duchess : 

" I am the common bellman, 
That usually is sent to condemn'd persons 
The night before they suffer." 

Here, of course, Duncan is the condemned person. Cf. also Spenser, 
F. Q. V. 6, 27, where the cock is called "the native belmau of the night." 
The owl is again mentioned, line 15, and in I Nen. VI. iv. 2. 15 : 

" Thott ominous and fearful owl of death." 

We may add R. of I. 165 : " No noise but owls' and wolves' death- 
boding cries;" Rich. III. iv. 4. 509: "Out on you, owls! nothing but 
songs of death ;" and 3 Hen. VI. v. 6. 44 : " The owl shriek'd at thy 
birth — an evil sign." 

5. Grooms. Originally, servants of any kind. See Schmidt or Wb. 

6. Possets. Malone quotes Randle Holmes, Academy of Armoiwie, 
1688 : " Posset is hot milk poured on ale or sack, having sugar, grated 
bisket, and eggs, with other ingredients, boiled in it, which goes all to a 
curd." This explains why the posset is often spoken of as "eaten." Cf. 
M.W. V. 5. 180: "Thou shalt eat a posset to-night at my house." S. 
\xsts> posset as a verb in Ham. i. 5. 68 : 

" And with a sudden vigour it doth posset 
And curd, like eager droppings into milk, 
The thin and wholesome blood." 

See on ii. i. 31 above. 

7. That. So that. See Gr. 283, and cf line 23 below. 

8. " Macbeth fancies that he hears some noise (see line 14), and in his 
nervous excitement has not sufficient control over himself to keep 
silence. The word '•zvithin'' was added by Steevens. The folios make 
Macbeth enter before speaking, but it is clear that Lady Macbeth is alone 
while speaking the following lines" (C. P. ed.). 

But, as K. reminds us, the king does not sleep in the first, but in the 
second chamber, whence a call could not easily be heard in the courtyard 
below. He adds : " Macbeth lingers yet a moment within ; his unquiet 
mind imagines it hears a noise in the court below, and thoughtlessly, be- 
wildered and crazed, he rushes back to the balcony, and calls beneath, 
'Who 's there?' In his agony, however, he waits for no answer, but 
rushes back into the chambers to execute the murder." 

11. Confonnds. Ruins, destroys; the most common meaning of the 
word in S. Cf iv. i. 54 and iv. 3. 99 below. See also M. of V. iii. 2. 78; 
Rich. II. iii. 4. 60, etc. 

12. Had he not, etc. See Mrs. Jameson's comment on this passage 
(p. 19). Cf. what Campbell says in his life of Mrs. Siddons : " She is 
amiably unable to murder the sleeping king, because, to use Mrs. Jame- 



ic,o NOTES. 

son's words, ' he brings to her the dear and venerable image of her fa- 
ther.' Yes ; but she can send in her husband to do it for her. Did 
Shakespeare intend us to beheve this murderess naturally compassion- 
ate ?" 

Friesen (quoted by Furness) remarks : " The confession of Lady 
Macbeth that she could not murder the king with her own hand because 
in his sleep he resembled her father, is, according to my idea of her, a 
proof that the strength of will on which she relied in her first conversa- 
tion with her husband was by no means so entirely at her disposal as 
she imagined. She enters trembling, convulsed with the most terrible 
anguish ; she starts at every noise, and even her first words, ' That which 
hath made them drunk hath made me bold : What hath quenched them 
hath given me fire,' are not justified by her behaviour. I am convinced 
that this expression has no other aim than to let us know that she is not 
what she imagines herself to be. Why, otherwise, is she immediately 
afterwards startled by the cry of the owl .?" 

i6. Hunter suggested the following distribution of speeches here, 
which Furness adopts : 

''^Macbeth. Did not you speak? 
Lady Macbeth. When? Now? 

Macbeth. As I descended." 

As Hunter remarks, " the 'Ay' of the lady then possesses an effect, which 

as the scene stands at present it wants." We do not, however, feel quite 

justified in making the change. 
20. So7'iy. Sad. Often applied, as here, to inanimate things. The 

C. P. ed. cites 2 Hen. VI. i. 4. 79 : "a sorry breakfast." Cf also Spenser, 

F. Q. V. I, 14: 

" To whom as they approched, they espide 
A sorie sight as ever seene with eye, 
An headlesse Ladie lying him beside 
In her own blood all wallow' d woefully." 

The stage direction here was added by Pope. 

23. That. See on line 7 above. 

24. Addressed fhe?7i. " Made themselves ready " (Schmidt). Cf. M. W. 
iii. 5. 135 ; M. of V. ii. 9. 19, etc. Gr. 223. 

27. As. " The {/"is implied in the subjunctive" (Gr. 107). 
Hangman. Executioner. Cf. M. of V. iv. i. 125: "the hangman's 

axe." It is applied jocosely to Cupid in Micch Ado, iii. 2. 11 : "the little 
hangman dare not shoot at him." 

28. Listening. Used transitively, as in Much Ado, iii. I. 12; y. C. iv. 
I, 41 ; and Rich. II. ii. I. 9. See Gr. 199. 

31. But ivhe7-efore, etc. Bodenstedt (quoted by Furness) remarks ; 
" This is one of those traits in which Macbeth's egotistic hypocrisy is 
most clearly displayed. He speaks as if murder and praying could join 
hand in hand in friendly companionship, and is astonished that he could 
not say 'Amen ' when the grooms, betrayed and menaced by himself, ap- 
pealed to heaven for protection." 

Was this the kind of piety that Lady Macbeth had in mind when she 
said. 



ACT 11. SCENE 11. 19^ 

"Wliat thou wouldst highly 
That wouldst thou holily?" 

33. Thought. Hanmer added "on," which Keightley adopts, though, 
as he says, it "is not absolutely necessary." 

34. So. If we so think of them. 

35-40. We follow Johnson (as do Coll., D., St., H., W., and others) 
in limiting what the " voice " says to " Sleep no more ! Macbeth does 
murther sleep !" Hanmer, with the earlier editors generally except 
Johnson, makes the " voice " continue to " feast ;" so also Sr. and Mo- 
berly. As H. remarks, " all from ' the innocent sleep ' is evidently his 
own conscience-stricken reflections on the imaginary utterances." 

37. Raveird. Tangled. See Wb. Mason cites T. G. of V. iii. 2. 52 : 
"Lest it should ravel," etc. 

Sleave. Malone explains this as " coarse, soft, unwrought silk," and 
quotes Florio, Ital. /?/<;■/'., 15 98 : '■'' Sfilazza. Any kind of ravelled stuffe, 
or sleave silk ;" also " Capitone, a kind of coarse silk, called sleave silke." 
Cf. T. and C. v. i. 35 : "Thou idle immaterial skein of sleave-silk." See 
also Drayton, Quest of Cynthia : 

" The bank, with daffidillies dight. 
With grass, like sleave, was matted." 

38. Death. Warb. wanted to read "birth ;" whereupon W. remarks : 
" Warb., though a clergyman, forgot, what S. did not forget, that in death 
the wicked cease from troubling, and the weary are at rest." 

40. Nourisher. Steevens quotes Chaucer, C. T. 10661 : " The norice 
of digestion, the sleep." On the measure, see Gr. 467. Rushton (quoted 
by Furness) cites Ovid, Met. xi. 623 : 

" Somne, quies rerum, placidissime Somne deorum, 
Pax animi, quem cura fugit, qui corda diurnis 
Fessa ministeriis mulces, reparasque labori." * 

Malone suggests that S. may have had in mind the following verses 
from Sir Philip Sidney's Astrophel and Stella, a poem from which he has 
quoted a line in M. W. : 

" Come sleepe, O sleepe, the certain knot of peace. 
The bathing place of wits, the balm of woe. 
The poor man's wealth, the prisoner's release, 
The indifferent judge between the high and low." 

42. Glamis hath jmcrther'd sleep. Johnson made the "cry" end with 
these words ; but we prefer to follow Hanmer and let it include the two 
lines. 

W. remarks : " These two lines, unless their detailing of Macbeth's 
titles is the utterance of a distempered fancy, sink into a mere conceit 
unworthy of the situation," Elwin says : " Having, under one designa- 
tion, murd£7'ed sleep, it exists no more for him under any title or name he 
can assume." 

* Cf. Golding's quaint translation (1587) : 

" O sleepe, quoth she, the rest of things, O gentlest of the goddes. 

Sweet sleepe, the peace of mind, with whom crookt care is aye at odds; 
Which cherishest men's weary limbs appall' d with toyling sore, 
And makest them as fresh to worke, and lustie as before." 



192 NOTES. 

46. Bramsickly. "Madly" (Schmidt). The only instance of the ad- 
verb in S. The adjective brainsick occurs six times (including R. of L, 

175). 

Go get sojne wate}', etc. Cf. v. I. 58. 

47. Witness. " One who, or a thing which, bears testimony " (Schmidt). 

55. A painted devil. Steevens quotes Webster, White Devil: "Ter- 
rify babes, my lord, with painted devils." 

56. / '11 gild, etc. Nares remarks that, though there is no real resem- 
blance between the colour of blood and that of gold, to gild with blood 
was an expression not uncommon in the i6th century. Gold was popu- 
larly and very generally styled red [as it still is in poetry sometimes]. So 
we have "golden blood," ii. 3. 94 below. Ci. A. "JoJin, u. i. 316: "all 
gilt with Frenchmen's blood." 

For the quibble on gilt and gnilt, cf. 2 Hen. IV. iv. 5. 129, and Hen. V. 
ii. chorus, 26. See also Middleton, A Mad World: "Though guilt con- 
demns, 't is gilt must make us glad ;" Marlowe, Hero and Leajider : 

" That, this word gilt including double sense, 
The double guilt of his incontinence 
Might be express' d," etc. 

Many other instances of it might be cited from the old plays. Elwin 
remarks that here it "serves to exhibit most forcibly, in the ferocious 
levity of the expression, the strained and sanguinary excitement of Lady 
Macbeth's mind." The C. P. ed. says : "A play of fancy here is like a 
gleam of ghastly sunshine striking across a stormy landscape, as in some 
pictures of Ruysdael." 

Coleridge has said that except in the soliloquy of the Porter (which he 
believed to be an interpolation), there is not a pun or play upon words 
in the whole drama; and Schlegel has made a similar statement. Both 
seem to have overlooked the present passage, and another (which Abbott 
points out) in v. 8. 48. 

57. That knocki^ig. Macduff and Lenox are knocking at the south 
gate, as the next scene shows.* 

* Cf. what De Quincey says on this knocking. After remarking that its effect on his 
feelings was to "reflect back upon the murder a peculiar awfulness and a depth of so- 
lemnity" for which he was long perplexed to account, he gives this solution of the prob- 
lem : 

" Murder, in ordinary cases, where the sj'mpathy is wholly directed to the case of the 
murdered person, is an incident of coarse and vulgar horror; and for this reason, that it 
flings the interest exclusively upon the natural but ignoble instinct by which we cleave to 
life ; an instinct which, as being indispensable to the primal law of self-preservation, is the 
same in kind (though different in degree) among all living creatures ; this instinct, there- 
fore, because it annihilates all distinctions, and degrades the greatest of men to the.level of 
the 'poor beetle that we tread on,' exhibits human nature in its most abject and humiliating 
attitude. Such an attitude would little suit the purposes of the poet. What then must 
he do? He must throw the interest on the murderer. Our sympathy must be with 
him (of course, I mean a sympathy of comprehension, a sympathy by which we enter 
into his feelings, and are made to understand them — not a sympathy of pity or approba- 
tion). In the murdered person, all strife of thought, all flux and reflux of passion and of 
purpose, are crushed by one overwhelming panic ; the fear of instant death smites him 
' with its petrific mace.' But in the murderer, such a murderer as a poet will condescend 
to, there must be raging some great storm of passion -jealousy, ambition, vengeance, ha- 
tred — which will create a hell within him ; and into this hell we are to look. 



ACT II. SCENE II 



193 



60. Will all great Neptune's ocean, etc. Steevens quotes Catullus, In 
Gelliutn, 5 : 

" Suscipit, o Gelli, quantum non ultima Tethys,- 
Non genitor Nympharum abluat Oceanus;" 

and Seneca, Hippol, ii. 715 : 

" Quis eluet me Tanais? aut quae barbaris 
Maeotis undis Pontico incumbens mari? 
Non ipse toto magnus Oceano pater 
Tantum expiarit sceleris!" 

-Holt White compares Lucretius, vi. 1076 : 

" Non, si Neptuni fluctu renovare operam des; 
Non, mare si totum velit eluere omnibus undis." 

62. The multitiidinous seas. As admirably descriptive as Homer's 
■jro\v(pXoi(Tl3oio BaXdffarjQ. One can almost hear' in it the sound of the sea 
with its numberless waves. And yet Malone thought it might mean 
" the seas which swarm with myriad inhabitants," 

" In Machethy for the sake of gratifying his own enormous and teeming faculty of cre- 
ation, Shakespeare has introduced two murderers, and, as usual in his hands, they are 
remarkably discriminated ; but, though in Macbeth the strife of mind is greater than in 
his wife, the tiger spirit not so awake, and his feelings caught chiefly by contagion from 
her — yet, as both were finally involved in the guilt of murder, the murderous mind of 
necessity is finally to be presumed in both. This was to be expressed ; and on its own 
account, as well as to make it a more propoi-tionable antagonist to the unoffending nature 
of their victim, 'the gracious Duncan,' and adequately to expound the ' deep damnation 
of his taking off,' this was to be expressed with peculiar energy. We were to be made to 
feel that the human nature, i. e., the divine nature of love and mercy, spread through the 
hearts of all creatures, and seldom utterly withdrawn from man, was gone, vanished, 
extinct ; and that the fiendish nature had taken its place. And, as this effect is marvel- 
lously accomplished in the dialogties and soUloqtdes themselves, so it is finally consum- 
mated by the expedient under consideration ; and it is to this that I now solicit the 
reader's attention. If the reader has ever witnessed a wife, daughter, or sister in a faint- 
ing-fit, he may chance to have observed that the most affecting moment in such a spec- 
tacle is that in which a sigh or a stirring announces the recommencement of suspended 
life. . . . All action in any direction is best expounded, measured, and made apprehensible 
by reaction. Now apply this to the case of Macbeth. Here, as I have said, the retiring 
of the human heart, and the entrance of the fiendish heart, was to be expressed and made 
sensible. ... In order that a new world may step in, this world must for a time disappear. 
The murderers, and the murder, must be insulated — cut off by an immeasurable gulf from 
the ordinary tide and succession of human affairs — locked up and sequestered in some 
deep recess ; we must be made sensible that the world of ordinary life is suddenly arrested 
■ — laid asleep — tranced — racked into a dread armistice ; time must be annihilated ; relation 
to things without abolished; and all must pass self-withdrawn into a deep syncope and 
suspension of earthly passion. Hence it is that when the deed is done, when the work 
of darkness is perfect, then the world of darkness passes away like a pageantry in the 
clouds : the knocking at the gate is heard : and it makes known audibly that the reaction 
has commenced ; the human has made its reflux upon the fiendish ; the pulses of life are 
beginning to beat again ; and the re-establishment of the goings-on of the world in which 
we live first makes us profoundly sensible of the awful parenthesis that had suspended 
them. 

" O mighty poet ! Thy works are not as those of other men, simply and merely great 
works of art ; but are also like the phenomena of nature, like the sun and the sea, the 
Stars and the flowers — like frost and snow, rain and dew, hail-storm and thunder, which 
are to be studied with entire submission of our own faculties, and in the perfect faith that 
in them there can be no too-much or too-little, nothing useless or inert — but that the 
further we press in our discoveries, the more we shall see proofs of design and self- 
supporting arrangement where the careless eye had seen nothing but accident I" 

N 



194 NOTES. 

Incarnadine. Nares gives carnadine = c^xxvaXxon red, and cites Any^ 
thing for a Quiet Life : 

" Grograms, sattins, velvet fine, 
The rosy-colour'd carnadine." 

Incarnadine is found in Sylvester. Hunter cites his description of the 
Phoenix : 

" Her wings and train of feathers mixed fine 
Of orient azure and incarnadine." 

Furness quotes Collier's reprint of An Antidote against Melancholy,. 
1661, where it is the name of a red wine : 

" In love? 't is true with Spanish wine, 
Or the French juice, Incarnadine." 

Carew uses it as a verb in his Obsequies to the Lady A7me Hay {" Incar- 
nadine Thy rosy cheek"), but he probably borrowed it from S. 

63. Making, etc. The folio has " Making the Greene one. Red," and 
some of the earlier editors follow that pointing. Malone says : " One 
red does not sound to my ear as the phraseology of the age of Elizabeth ; 
and the green, for the green one, or for the green sea, is, I am persuaded, 
unexampled." Nares, too, thinks the interpretation "making the green 
[sea] one entire red " is " ridiculously harsh and forced." Of course any 
other interpretation is absurd. , As Elwin remarks, "the imagination of 
Macbeth dwells upon the conversion of the tiniversal green into one per- 
vading red.'''' Steevens compares Ham. ii. 2. 479: "Now is he total 
gules ;" and Milton, Comus, 133 : " And makes one blot of all the air." 
St. suggests "green zone," referring to Cyinb. iii. i. 19, 20; Id. iii. i. 81 ; 
A. and C. ii. 7. 74 ; T. A. iii. I. 94 ; K. John, v. 2. 34, etc. 

65. A heart so white. The C. P. ed, quotes iv. i. 85 : "pale-hearted 
fear ;" and Malone compares Marlowe, Ltisfs Dominion (written before 
1593) • "Your cheeks are black, let not your soul look white." 

68. Your constancy, etc. Your firmness has forsaken you. Cf A. W. 
ii. I. 87 ; J. C. ii. I. 299, etc. 

70. Nightgown. "A loose gown used for undress" (Schmidt), or, as 
we should say, a dressing-gown. Cf v. i. 4 below. See also Much Ado, 
iii. 4. 18 ; 0th. iv. 3. 34 ; and stage-direction in J. C. ii. 2. W. remarks ; 
" In Macbeth's time, and for centuries later, it was customary for both 
sexes to sleep without any other covering than that belonging to the bed 
when a bed was occupied. But of this S. knew nothing, and if he had 
known, he would of course have disregarded it. Macbeth's nightgown 
. . . answered to our robe de chambre.'''' 

72. Poorly. " Without spirit, dejectedly " (Schmidt). Cf Rich. II. 
iii. 3. 128: "To look so poorly and to speak so fair." Ci. poor 'in R. 
of L. 710. 

73. To know, etc. " If I must forever know my own deed " (Moberly). 
Cf. W. T. i. 2. 356 : 

" To do this deed, 
Promotion follows." 

See Gr. 357. The C. P. ed. says : " An easier sense might be arrived at 
by a slight change in punctuation : ' To know my deed ^ 'T were best not 



ACT II. SCENE IIL 



195 



know myself.' " But the question does not seem naturally to follow what 
precedes. 

74. Rowe and Pope read, " Wake Duncan with this ;" and Theo., 
" Wake, Duncan, with this," Pope, Theo., Johnson, and others omit 
" I ;" Steevens, Sr. (2d ed.), and St. have " Ay, 'would." 

Scene III, — The Porter's part in this scene has been the subject of 
much discussion. Coleridge says of it : " This low soliloquy of the 
Porter and his few speeches afterwards I believe to have been written 
for the mob by some other hand, perhaps with Shakespeare's consent ; 
and that finding it take, he with the remaining ink of a pen otherwise 
employed just interpolated the words — 

' I '11 devil-porter it no further : I had thought to have let in some of all professions, 
that go the primrose way to the everlasting bonfire.' 

Of the rest not one syllable has the ever-present being of Shakespeare." 
The C. P. editors remark : " Probably Coleridge would not have made 
even this exception unless he had remembered Ilam. \. 3. 50 : 

' The primrose path of dalliance.' 

To us this comic scene, not of a high class of comedy at best, seems 
strangely out of place amid the tragic horrors which surround it, and is 
quite different in effect from the comic passages which Shakespeare has 
introduced into other tragedies."* 

* Dowden (p. 372, foot-note) says that Fleay rejects the Porter's part altogether, but 
this is not now the case. On p. 246 of his' Shakespeare Manual he states that he does 
not agree with Coleridge's view of the passage, and on p. 256 he puts ii. 3 (except " rhyme- 
tag'') among the portions of the play written by Shakespeare. 

Schiller, in his translation of the play, has completely "reconstructed" the Porter's 
part. Furness (who, though compelled ex officio to record many wofully dull things 
from other commentators, is never dull when he speaks for himself), in his genial account 
of the various German translations oi Macbeth, refers to this portion of Schiller's as fol- 
lows : 

" The severest \Yrench, however, to which Schiller subjected this tragedy is to be found 
in the Porter's soliloquy, where, instead of a coarse, low, sensi^al hind, we have a lovely, 
lofty character, the very jingling of whose keys calls to prayer like Sabbath bells. Is it 
not surprising that the great German poet should have failed utterly in seeing the pur- 
pose of this rough jostling with the outer world after the secret horrors of that midnight 
murder? Can such things be, and overcome us like a summer's cloud, without our special 
wonder? Schiller's scene I have here translated . 

Act II. Scene V. 
Enter Porter, with keys. Afterwards Macduff and Ross. 

Porter {Shiging). The gloomy night is past and gone, 

The lark sings clear ; I see the dawn 

With heaven its splendour blending, 

Behold the sun ascending: 

His light, it shines in royal halls, 

And shines alike through beggar's walls, 

And what the shades of night concealed 

By his bright ray is now revealed. [Knocking; 

Knock! knock! have patience there, whoe'er it be. 
And let the porter end his morning song. 
'T is right God's praise should usher in the day; 
No duty is more urgent than to pray. — 



196 



NOTES. 



On the other hand, Wordsworth [Shakespeare' s Knowledge and Use of 
the Bible, p. 298) says : " As I do not doubt the passage was written with 
earnestness, and with a wonderful knowledge of human nature, especially 
as put into the mouth of a drunken man, so I believe it may be read with 
edification." 

Mr. J. W. Hales, in a paper read before the New Shakspere Society, 
May 22, 1874 (see the Transactions, 1874, p. 255 fol), takes the ground : 

"(i.) That a Porter's speech is an mtegral part of the play. 
(ii.) That it is necessary as a relief to the surrounding horror, 
(iii.) That it is necessary according to the law of contrast elsewhere obeyed, 
(iv. ) That the speech we have is dramatically relevant. 
(v.) That its style and language are Shakespearian." 

After the reading of this paper Mr. Tom Taylor remarked : " The 
reasons set forth by Mr. Hales appear to me so consonant with what we 
know of Shakespeare, the general character of his plays, his language, 
and the relation of serious and comic in his treatment of dramatic sub- 
jects, that to me they carry absolute conviction that the Porter's speech 
is an integral part of the play." 

{Singing.') Let songs of praise and thanks be swelling 

To God who watches o'er this dwelling, 

And with his hosts of heavenly powers 

Protects us in our careless hours. 

Full many an eye has closed this night 

Never again to see the light. 

Let all rejoice who now can raise. 

With strength renewed, to heaven their gaze. 

{He tinbars the, gate. Enter Macduff and Ross. 
Ross. Well, friend, forsooth, it needs must be you keep 
A mighty organ in your bosom there 
To wake all Scotland with such trumpetings. 

Porter. V faith, 't is true, my lord, for I 'm the man 
That last night mounted guard around all Scotland. 
Ross. How so, friend porter? 

Porter. Why, you see, does not 

The king's eye keep o'er all men watch and w^rd, 
And all night long the porter guard the king? 
And therefore I am he that watched last night 
Over all Scotland for you. 

Ross. You are right. 

Macduff. His graciousness and mildness guard the king; 
'T is he protects the house, not the house him ; 
God's holy hosts encamp round where he sleeps. 

Ross. Say, porter, is thy master stirring yet? 
Our knocking has awaked him. Lo! he comes," etc. 
Verily this is " admirable fooling," and another German has seen the absurdity of it. 
Horn (also quoted by Fumess) comments on it thus : " Our Schiller has annihilated the 
whole Shakespearian Porter, from top to toe, and created instead one entirely new. lliis 
new creation is quite a good fellow and pious ; he sings a morning song whose noble se- 
riousness makes it worthy of admission into the best hymn-books. The jest also, which 
he subsequently throws out to the lords as they enter, that he had kept watch over all 
Scotland through the night, is respectable and loyal, like the whole man. But how comes 
this preacher" in the wiTderness here ? Does he fit the whole organism of the piece ? 
Does it not appear as if he were all ready to afford the repose which the whole idea of the 
scene is to give? And might not one almost say that it was a little officious in him that 
he wants to do it? It is possible that this Porter may be thought excellent, provided 
Shakespeare is not known ; but him we know, and how he kne^y how to make the Co- 
lumbus egg stand up, so I imagine the choice will not be found difficult." 



ACT iL SCENE III. 



197 



Mr. Furnivall says that he asked Dr. George Macdonald what he 
thought of the Porter's speech, and the reply was : " Look at the grim 
humour of it. I believe it's genuine." He put the same question to the 
poet Browning, who answered : " Certainly the speech is full of humour ; 
and as certainly the humour and the words are Shakespeare's. I cannot 
understand Coleridge's objection to it. It's as bad as his wanting to 
emend blanket by blank height [see on i. 5. 51]. As to Lamb, I've no 
doubt that he held the speech genuine, for he said that on his pointing 
out to his friend Munden the quality of the Porter's speech, Mimden 
was duly struck by it, and expressed his regret at never having played 
the part."* 

Bodenstedt (quoted by Furness) remarks : " After all, his uncouth 
comicality has a tragic background; he never dreams, while imagining 
himself a porter of hell-gate, how near he comes to the truth. What are 
all these petty sinners who go the primrose way to the everlasting bon- 
fire compared with those great criminals whose gates he guards .'"' 

Mr. and Mrs. Cowden Clarke, in their Annotated Edition of Shake- 
speare, say of the scene : " Its repulsively coarse humour serves power- 
fully to contrast, yet harmonize, with the base and gory crime that has 
been perpetrated. Shakespeare's subtilties of harmony in contrast are 
among his most marvellous powers ; and we venture to think that this 
Porter scene is one of these subtilties." Cf. Weiss, pp. 187-195. 

1. Porter of hell-gate. Mr. Hales compares 0th. iv. 2. 90 : 

"You, mistress. 
That have the office opposite to St. Peter, 
And keep the gate of hell." 

2. Old. A "colloquial intensive" used several times by S. ; as in J:/; 
of V. iv. 2. 16; 2 Hen. IV. ii. 4. 21 ; i¥". ^ i. 4. 5 ; Much Ado, v. 2. 98. 
Mr. J. R.Wise {Shakespeare : His Birthplace, etc., p. 106) says ; "When- 
ever there has been an unusual disturbance or ado . . . the lower orders 
round Stratford-on-Avon invariably characterize it by the phrase, 'There 
has been old work to-day.' " D. remarks that the Italians use (or for- 
merly used) vecchio in the same sense. 

4. A farmer, etc. Malone quotes Hall, Satires, iv. 6 : 

" Ech Muck-worme will be rich with lawlesse gaine, 
Altho he smother vp mowes of seuen yeares graine, 
And hang'd himself when corne grows cheap again." 

Malone also considers this (as well as the references to the "equivo- 
cator" and the "French hose" below) as helping to fix the date of the 
play in 1606. He says : " That in the summer and autumn of 1606 there 
was a prospect of plenty of corn appears from the audit-book of the Col- 
lege of Eton ; for the price of wheat in that year was lower than it was 
for thirteen years afterwards, being thirty-three shillings the quarter. In 
the preceding year (1605) it was two shillings a quarter dearer, and in 

* At the meeting of the New Shakspere Society, June 26, 1874, Mr. Furnivall stated 
that Mr. Hales' s conclusions had been accepted by every critic in England whose opinion 
he had asked ; among them Mr. Tennyson, Mr. J. Spedding, Mr. A. J. Ellis, Professor 
Dowden, and Professor H. Morley. 



198 



NOTES. 



the subsequent year (1607) three shillings a quarter dearer. In 1608 
wheat was sold at Windsor market for fifty-six shillings and eight pence 
a quarter ; and in 1609 for fifty shillings. In 1606 barley and malt were 
considerably cheaper than in the two years subsequent." 

5. Come in time. That is, you've come in time ; probably alluding to 
his suicide. St. would punctuate it "Come in, Time," the "Time" be- 
ing "a whimsical appellation" for the farmer! Clarke explains it as = 
"Be in time!" 

Napkins. Handkerchiefs. Cf. Z. C 15 : " Oft did she heave her nap- 
kin to her eyne ;" also 0th. iii. 3. 287, 290, 321, etc. 

Enow. The plural of ejtongh. Cf. M. of V. iii. 5. 24 : " Christians 
enow." See also Id. iv. i. 29; Hen. V. iv. i. 240, etc. 

8. An equivocator, etc. Warb. believed this to be an allusion to the 
Jesuits, " the inventors of the execrable doctrine of equivocation ;" and 
Malone thought that it had "direct reference to the doctrine oi equivoca- 
tion avowed by Henry Garnet, Superior of the order of Jesuits in England, 
on his trial for the Gunpowder Treason, on the 28th of March, 1606, and 
to his detestable perjury on that occasion, or, as Shakespeare expresses 
it, 'to his swearing in both scales against either scale ;' that is, flatly and 
directly contradicting himself on oath." 

13. A French hose. According to Warb. " the joke consists in this, 
that the French hose being then very short and strait, a tailor must be 
master of his trade who could steal anything from them." Malone re- 
marks : " From a passage in Henry V., and from other proofs, we know 
that about the year 1597 the French hose were very large and lusty ; but 
doubtless between that year and 1600 they had adopted the fashion 
here alluded to ; and we know that French fashions were very quickly 
adopted in England. The following passage occurs in The Black Year, 
by Anthony Nixon, 1606 : 'Gentlemen this year shall be much wronged 
by their taylors, for their consciences are now much larger than ever they 
were, for where [whereas] they were wont to steale but half a yeard of 
brood cloth in making up a payre of breeches, now they do largely nicke 
their customers in the lace too,' etc." 

In M. of V. i. 2. 80 there is another reference to the large " round hose" 
borrowed from France. Cf. also Hen. V. iii. 7. 56. 

14. Goose. " So called from its handle, which resembles the neck of a 
goose" (Wb.). 

15. At quiet. Mr. Furnivall remarks that "as S. uses both ^in rest' 
and '■at rest,' there is nothing strange in his using both ^ in quiet' and 
^ at quiet.' " Cf. Judges, xviii. 27. On the peculiar uses oi at in S., see 
Gr. 143, 144. 

17. The primrose way, etc. Steevens cites Ham. i. 3. 50 : "the prim- 
rose path of dalliance ;" and A. W. iv. 5. 56 : " the flowery way that leads 
to the broad gate and the great fire." 

22. The second cock. The time meant, as Mason suggests, is shown by 
R. and J. iv. 4. 3 : 

"The second cock hath crow'd, 
The curfew bell hath rung, 't is three o'clock." 

Cf. Lear, iii. 4. 121, and M. N. D. ii. i. 267. 



ACT II. SCENE III. 199 

27. Timely. S. often uses adjectives ending in -ly as adverbs. Cf. 
unmannerly in 98 below, etc. We have timely as an adjective in iii. 3. 7. 
See Gr. i. 

31. Physics. Cures. Cf. Cymb. iii. 2. 34 : " For it doth physic love." 
Steevens cites W. T. i. i. 43 ; and Malone, Temp. iii. i. i. 

32. So bold to call. Cf. M. of V. iii. 3. 10 : " So fond to come abroad," 
etc. Gr. 281. 

33. Liinited. Appointed. Cf. M.for M. iv. 2. 176 : " having the hour 
limited;" K. John, v. 2. 123 : "warrant limited;" Rich. III. v. 3. 25 : 
" Limit each leader to his several charge ;" that is, " appoint to every 
leader his command " (Schmidt). 

38. Prophesying. Prophecy, prediction. On the measure, see Gr. 470. 

39. Combustion. Used by S. only here and in Hen. VIII. v. 4. 51 ; in 
both instances figuratively. Combustions occurs in V. and A. 1 162 : "As 
dry combustions matter is to fire." 

40. Obscure. Accent on the first syllable, as in Rich. II. iii. 3. 154, etc. 
See Gr. 492. The obscure bird is " the nightly owl " ( T. A. ii. 3. 97). See 
on ii. 2. 3 above. 

42. Steevens quotes Cor. i. 4. 61 : 

"Thou madest thine enemies shake, as if the world 
Were feverous and did tremble." 

The reference is to an ague fever, or " shaking fever," as it is called in 
K.John, ii. i. 228. 

43. Parallel. "Adduce as equal" (Schmidt). It means "equal" in 
T. and C. ii. 2. 162, and A. W. iv. 3. 281. 

45. Tongue nor heart, etc. Cf. i. 3. 60 above. On the use of the neg- 
atives, cf. Sonn. 86. 9 : " He nor that affable familiar ghost . . . cannot 
boast." See also Gr. 396. 

47. Confusion. Destruction. Cf. iii. 5. 29 below ; also K. John^ iv. 3. 

49. Delius calls attention to the confusion of metaphors here. The C. 
P. ed. remarks : " Reference is made in the same clause to i Sam. xxiv. 
10 : ' I will not put forth mine hand against my lord, for he is the Lord's 
anointed ;' and to 2 Cor. vi. 16 : ' For ye are the temple of the living 
God.' " 

53. Gorgon. As the C. P. ed. suggests, S. probably derived his knowl- 
edge of the Gorgon's head from Ovid's Metamorphoses, v. 189-210, where 
it is related how Perseus turned his enemies to stone by making them 
look on it. There is an allusion to it also in 7". and C. v. 10. 18 : 

"Go into Troy and say there Hector's dead: 
There is a word will Priam turn to stone." 

57. Death'' s coimterfeit. Cf. R. of L. 402 : " the map of death" (that is, 
sleep) ; and M. N. D. iii. 2. 364 : " death-counterfeiting sleep." 

59. The great dootri's image. "A sight as terrible as an image of the 
Last Judgment" (Delius). Cf. Lear, v. 3. 264. 

61. Countenance. "Be in keeping with" (Schmidt). 

63. Parley, d. parte in Rich. II. i. i. 192, and 3 Hen. VI. v. i. 16. 

72. Had I but died, etc. Malone compares W. T. iv. 4. 472 ; 



200 NOTES. 

" If I might die within this hour, I have liv'd 
To die when I desire." 

^^ Mortality. "Human life" (Schmidt). Cf. i?. ^/ Z. 403 : "life's 
mortality;" K, JoJm, v. 7. 5 : "the ending of mortality;" M. for M, iii. 
2. 196 : "No might nor greatness in mortality," etc. 

75. Is dead. For the singular, see Gr. 336 ; and for is left just below. 
Gr. 333. 

83. Badg'd. . Not elsewhere used as a verb by S. Malone cites 2 Hert. 
' VI. iii. 2. 200 : " Murder's crimson badge." 

92. Expedition. Haste. Cf. T. G. of V. i. 3. 37 : " the speediest expe- 
dition," etc. 

93. Oiitricn. Johnson (followed by many modern editors) changed this 
to " outran ;" but these past indicative forms in 11 are very common in S. 
See Gr. 339 ; and on pans er, Gr. 443. 

94. Lac d. To lace was " to adorn with a texture sewed on " (Schmidt). 
S. uses it literally in Much Ado, iii. 4. 20 : " cloth o' gold, and cuts, and 
laced with silver ;" and figuratively, as here, in R. and J. iii. 5. 8 : 

" What envious streaks 
Do lace the severing clouds in yonder east!" 

and Cymb. ii. 2. 22 : 

"White and azure lac'd 
With blue of heaven's own tinct." 

See also Sonn. 67. 4. 

Golden blood. Pope wanted to change this to "goary blood," but see 
on ii. 2. 56 above. 

95. A breach in nature. Steevens cites Sidney, ^r(r(7(//<^ .• "battering 
down the wals of their armour, making breaches almost in every place, 
for troupes of wounds to enter ;" and A Herring's Tayle, 1598 : " A bat- 
ter'd breach where troopes of wounds may enter in." 

98. Breech' d with gore. Schmidt explains breech, "to cover as with 
breeches, to sheathe." So Douce, Dyce, Delius, and others. Nares 
takes it to mean, " having the very hilt, or breech, covered with blood." 
" Reech'd," " drench'd," " hatch'd," etc., have been suggested as emenda- 
tions ; but, as Warb. remarks, " the whole speech is an unnatural mixture 
of far-fetched and commonplace thoughts, that shows him to be acting 
a part." Cf. Gr. 529. 

100. Make''s. "The abbreviation 'j- for his is very common even in 
passages which are not colloquial or familiar" (C. P. ed.). 

loi. T. Whately [Remarks on Char, of Shakes., 3d ed., p. 77, foot-note) 
says : " On Lady Macbeth's seeming to faint while Banquo and Macduff 
are solicitous about her, Macbeth, by his unconcern, betrays a conscious- 
ness that the fainting is feigned." 

' Flathe (quoted by Furness) remarks : " Any child could declare that 
this swoon was only feigned to avoid all further embarrassment. But it 
must not be imagined that there is any feigning here. The poet, in Lady 
Macbeth, gives another view of human nature steeped in sin from that 
portrayed in Macbeth himself. In her, as her former dreams prove 
mockeries and unreal, the whole mental organization receives an annihi- 
lating blow from that first deed of blood, beneath which it may stagger 



ACT 11. SCENE III. 20 1 

on for a while, but from which it can never entirely recover. For one 
moment, immediately after the deed. Lady Macbeth can overmaster her 
husband, and stand defiantly erect, as if to challenge hell to combat. 
But this was but a momentary intoxication ; it is even now over. She 
is already conscious that she can never banish from her breast the con- 
sciousness of her crime ; she has found out that her wisdom, which spurned 
at reflection, is naught. The deed she has done stands clear before her 
soul in unveiled, horrible distinctness, and therefore she swoons away." 

Horn and Bodenstedt also believe that the swoon is real. The latter 
says : "Various causes have co-operated to beget in Lady Macbeth a re- 
vulsion of feeling, which, from henceforth constantly increasing, drives 
her at last to self-destruction. The first intimation we found in ii. 2. 33, 
34. She finds herself mistaken in her husband ; a gulf has opened be- 
tween him and her which nothing can hereafter bridge over. At the 
same time we perceive here the intimation of that internal and natural 
reaction of her overtaxed powers. Womanhood reasserts its rights." 

Fletcher (see above, p. 29), referring to the theory that the fainting is 
feigned, remarks ; " We believe, however, that our previous examination 
of her character must already have prepared the reader to give to this 
circumstance quite a different interpretation. He will bear in mind the 
burst of anguish which had been forced from her by Macbeth's very first 
ruminations upon his act : ' These deeds must not be thought After these 
ways ; so, it will make us mad.'' Remembering this, he will see what a 
dreadful accumulation of suffering is inflicted upon her by her husband's 
own lips [ii. 3. 93-98], painting in stronger, blacker colours than ever the 
guilty horror of their common deed." 

Compare what Weiss (p. 421) says : " She has had no chance to calcu- 
late what effect this murder will have upon human sensibilities when they 
are taken by it unawares. She sees the awfulness of it suddenly reflected 
from the faces and gestures of Macduff, Banquo, and the rest. It beats 
at the gate across which she has braced a woman's arm, and breaks it 
in ; and a mob of reproaches rush over her. What have those delicate 
hands been doing? . . . Nature, in making her, was so little in the male 
mood, so intently following the woman's model, that it left out the ele- 
ment which carries Macbeth through this scene. To hear her husband 
describe his simulated rage in butchering the grooms, and draw that 
painting of Duncan in his blood — 'And his gash'd stabs look'd like a 
breach in nature For ruin's wasteful entrance ' — it is too much, and 't is 
plain she.is not needed. ' Help me hence, ho !' her sex cries. It is the 
revulsion of nature in a feminine soul. Love has exhaled all its hardi- 
hood into the deed which is just now discovered. She, too, has only now 
really discovered it. The nerves part at the overstrain of seeing what 
the deed is like, and drop her helpless into a swoon." 

102. Argument. Theme, subject. Cf. Sontt. 76. 10: "And you and 
love are still my argument," etc. See also Milton, P. L. i. 24: "the 
highth of this great argument." 

104. Hid in an auger-hole. " Concealed in imperceptible or obscure 
places " (Elwin). Steevens quotes Cor. iv. 6. 87 : " Confin'd Into an 
auger's bore," On the measure of the line, see Gr. 480, 



202 



NOTES. 



io6. Brew'd. Delias remarks that this metaphor is amplified in T, A, 
iii. 2. 38. 

107. The C. P. ed. says : " Sorrow in its first strength is motionless, 
and cannot express itself in words or tears." Cf. iv. 3. 209, and 3 Hen. 
VI. iii, 3. 22 : 

"And give my tongue-tied sorrows leave to speak." 

108. When we have, etc. " When we have clothed our half drest 
bodies, which may take cold from being exposed to the air " (Steevens). 
The Porter had observed that the place was " too cold for hell." Malone 
quotes T. of A. iv. 3. 228 : 

" Call the creatures 
Whose naked natures live in all the spite 
Of wreakful heaven." 

113. Pretence. Intention, purpose. Cf. W. T. iii. 2. 18; Cor. i. 2. 20, 
etc. In ii. 4. 24 below we hzve pretend— intend, design. 

Steevens explains the passage thus : " I here declare myself an eternal 
enemy to this treason, and to all its further designs that have not yet 
come to light." 

115. Put on manly readiness. "That is, dress ourselves" (Schmidt). 
So ri?«^= dressed. Cf. Cytnb. ii. 3. 86 : 

" Cloten. Your lady's person: is she ready? 

Lady. Ay, 

To keep her chamber ;" 

and the stage direction in i Hen. VI. ii. i. 38: "The French leap over 
the walls in their shirts. Enter, several ways, the Bastard of Orleans, 
Alengon, and Reignier, half ready and half unready." 

119. Easy. Easily. See Gr. i. 

122. There ^s. See Gr. 335 ; and on near=nezxtr, Gr. 478, and Rich. 
II. p. 190. 

Steevens remarks : " He suspected Macbeth ; for he was the nearest 
in blood to the two princes, being the cousin-german of Duncan." The 
C. P. ed. quotes Webster, Appius and Virginia, v. 2 : 

" Great men's misfortunes thus have ever stood — 
. They touch none nearly but their nearest blood." 

124. Hath not yet lighted. Has not yet spent its force. 

126. Dainty of. Particular about. Cf T. and C. i. 3. 145 : " grows 
dainty of his worth." 

127. There ^s warrant, etc. Delius compares A. W. ii. i. 33 \ 

" Bertram. I '11 steal away. 

First Lord. There 's honour in that theft." 

Scene IV. — Mr. Fleay (in his paper read before the New Shaks. Soc, 
June 26, 1874) says : "The old man in ii. 4 is suspicious. . . . He is of 
no use ; the preternatural phenomena had been already dwelt on suffi- 
ciently in ii. 3. 35-44 in Shakespeare's best manner, not in the prosy 
would-be poetry of this scene : I am not sure that the effect in ii. 4 is 
not even comic. ' Dark night strangling the travelling lamp ' is certainly 
queer, and ' Duncan's horses ' (from Kilkenny) ' eating each other' might 



ACT II. SCENE IV. 203 

well amaze Ross's eyes when he 'looked upon 't.' I reject lines 1-20, 
and 'strangle' the old man." 

To which Mr. Hales replied : " Shakespeare brings in the old man as 
the ' oldest inhabitant ' of the newspapers to tell us he does not remem- 
ber any such dreadful convulsions in his time. . . . There is a passage 
exactly parallel to this in Lear, iii. i, where to be sure we have not an 
old man, but we have ' a gentleman.' At the end of act ii. we are told 
of the storm to which Lear is exposed. This gentleman describes it 
more particularly. Mr. Fleay proposes to strangle the old man ; but the 
old man is much more likely, I suspect, to strangle Mr. Fleay — of course 
I mean Mr. Fleay qua Shakespeare critic."* 

4, Trifled. Made trivial. See Gr. 290. 

Knowings. Experiences. Schmidt refers to Cymb. i. 4. 30 and ii. 3. 
102 ; but, as the C. P. ed. notes, the present passage is the only one in 
which the plural is used. 

6. Threaten his bloody stage. "Frown upon the earth where such hor- 
rors are enacted" (Moberly). 

7. Strangles the travelling la7?ip. Cf. the description of the sun in r 
Hen. IV. i. 2. 226 : 

— "breaking through the foul and ugly mists 
Of vapours, that did seem to strangle him.' ' 

The folio has here "the trauailing Lanipe." In the time of S. the pres- 
ent distinction between travel and travail was not recognized, the forms 
being used indiscriminately without regard to the meaning. See Schmidt 
s. V. Coll. prefers travailiiig here as " having reference to the struggle 
between the sun and night ;" but D. reminds him that, as the sun has 
not been previously mentioned in the passage, " the word lamp ceases to 
signify the sun," \{ travelling rSi changed to travailing. 

8. Is '/ night'' s predominance, etc. "Is it that night is aggressive, or 
that the day is ashamed to appear ?" (Moberly). Predomina7tt and pre- 
dominance were astrological terms. Cf. Lear, i. 2. 134 : " Knaves, thieves, 
and treachers by spherical predominance ;" A. W.\. \.2\\: 

" Helena. The wars have so kept you under that you must needs have been born 
under Mars. 
Parolles. When he was predominant ?" 

see also W. T. i. 2. 202. 

10. On the description of prodigies that follows, cf. extract from 
Holinshed, p. 136 above. 

12. Towering and place are terms of falconry, D, cites Donne, who in 
one of his poems says of a hawk : " Which when herself she lessens in 
the aire, You then first say that high enough she toweres ;" and Tur- 
bervile, Booke of Falconrie, 161 1 : " Shee is of the number of those 
Hawkes that are hie flying and towre Hawks."t Place — " pitch, the 

* This the old man, with Mr. Hales's help, appears to have done ; for Mr. Fleay omits 
the passage in reprinting the paper in his SJtakespeare Manual. The "horses," by the 
by, are not "from Kilkenny," but from Holinshed. See p. 136. 

t Cf. Milton, P. L. xi. 185 : " The bird of Jove, stooped from his aery tour;" where, 
as D. suggests, "tour" is probably =" tower" in this technical sense. 



204 NOTES. 

highest elevation of the hawk " (Schmidt). For pitch, cf. Rich. IT. \, 
I. 109, and see note in our ed. p. 153. 

13. Mousing. " A very elTective epithet, as contrasting the falcon, in 
her pride of place, with a bird that is accustomed to seek its prey on the 
ground" (Talbot), 

14. Ho7'ses. A monosyllable here. See Gr. 471 ; and cf. sense in v. 
I. 22 below, and in Sonn. 112. 10. In A. and C. iii. 7. 7 we have " horse " 
= " horses ;" and in K. John, \\. i. 289, " horse back " for horse's back." 

15. Minions, Darlings. See on i. 2. 19 above. 

16. In nature. " Their wildness was no casual or passing fit, but their 
whole nature had become suddenly changed " (Delius, quoted by Fur- 
ness). 

17. As. See on i. 4. 11 and ii. 2. 27. Gr. 107. 

18. Eat. Changed by many critics to ate, which is nowhere found in 
the early copies. The present is there more frequently printed " eate." 
For the participle S. uses both eat (as in L. L. L. iv. 2. 26, Rich. II. v. 5. 
85, etc.) and eaten (see i. 3. 84 and iv. i. 64 in the present play). Milton 
always uses eat for the past tense (as in F. L. ix. 781, P. R. i. 352, and 
L'All. 102, where it rhymes With, feat), but never, we believe, for the par- 
ticiple. 

24. Pretend. See on ii. 3. 113.' 

28. Ravin tip. " Devour greedily " (Schmidt). Cf. M.for M. i. 2. 133 : 
'*Like rats that ravin down their proper bane." In iv. i. 24 below we 
have "ravin'd" = ravenous. Cf A.W. iii. 2. 120: "the ravin lion." 

29. Like. Likely ; as often in S. Cf. M. of V. ii. 7. 49 : " Is 't like 
that lead contains her .?" 

31. Scone. Of this ancient town, which was situated about two miles 
and a half from Perth, few memorials now remain. Of Scone Abbey, 
founded by Alexander I. in 1107, in which the Scottish kings from that 
date down to the time of James II. were crowned, nothing is feft but part 
of an aisle now used as a mausoleum by the Earl of Mansfield, on whose 
estate it stands. The old market-cross of Scone also remains in the 
pleasure-grounds of Scone Palace, as the seat of the earl is called. At 
the north side of the mansion is a tumulus, known as the Moat Hill, said 
to have been composed of earth from the estates of those who here at- 
tended on the kings. 

The famous " stone of Scone," which served for many ages as the seat 
on which the kings were crowned, now forms part of the English coro- 
nation-chair in Westminster Abbey. The connection that the stone is 
supposed to have with the destinies of the Scots is commemorated in 
ancient verse,* which has been thus rendered : 

" Unless the Fates are faithless grown, 
And prophet's voice be vain. 
Where'er is found this sacred stone, 
The Scottish race shall reign." 

According to national tradition, this stone was the pillow, of Jacob at 
Bethel, and long served for the coronation-seat of the kings of Ireland. 

* " Ni fallat fatum, Scoti quocumque locatum 
Invenient lapidem regnare tenentur ibidem." 



ACT II. SCENE IV. 2o5 

It is said to have been brought from Ireland to lona by Fergus, the son 
of Ere, then to have been deposited in Dunstaffnage Castle (still standing 
near Oban), and to have been transported thence to Scone by Kenneth 
II. in the year 842. Its history from that date is well authenticated, but 
the rest is of course more or less mythical. 

33. Colnie-kill. "The cell (or chapel) of Columba," now known as 
Icolmkill, or lona, a barren islet, about eight miles south of Staffa. Here 
St. Columba, an Irish Christian preacher, founded a monastery in A.D. 
563, and here he died about A.D. 597, or at the time when Augustine 
landed in Kent to convert the English. From this monastery in lona 
Christianity and civilization spread, not only through Scotland, but even 
to the Orkneys and Iceland. Hence the island came to be considered 
holy ground, and there was a traditionary belief that it was to be specially 
favoured at the dissolution of the world. According to the ancient 

" -^ ■^' " Seven years before that awful day 

When time shall be no more, 
A watery deluge shall o'ersweep 

Hibernia's mossy shore; 
The green-clad Isla, too, shall sink, 

While with the great and good, 
Columba's happier isle shall rear 

Her towers above the flood." 

It is not to be wondered at that monarchs desired to be buried in this 

sacred spot, and that thus it became the cemetery where, as Collins has 

sunsf 

*' " The mighty kings of three fair realms are laid" — 

Scotland, Ireland, and Norway. No trace of their tombs now remains, 
the oldest monuments left on the island being those of Irish ecclesiastics 
of the I2th century. Besides these there are the ruins of a chapel (of 
-the nth century), of a nunnery (founded about 1180), and of the cathedral 
church of St. Mary, built early in the 13th century. Of the three hundred 
and fifty sculptured stone crosses which formerly adorned the island, only 
two are still standing. One is called " Maclean's Cross," and is a beau- 
tifully carved monolith, eleven feet high ; the other, " St. Martin's Cross," 
is about fourteen feet high. All the other crosses were thrown into the 
sea, about the year 1560, by order of the anti-Popish Synod of Argyll. 

Dr. Johnson, who visited lona during his Scottish tour, writes of it : 
" We were now treading that illustrious island which was once the lu- 
minary of the Caledonian regions, whence savage clans and roving bar- 
barians derived the benefits of knowledge and the blessings of religion. 
Far from me and from my friends be such frigid philosophy as may con- 
duct us indifferent and unmoved over any ground which has been digni- 
fied by wisdom, bravery, or virtue. That man is little to be envied whose 
patriotism would not gain force upon the plain of Marathon, or whose 
piety would not grow warmer among the ruins of lona." 

36. Thither. That is, to Scone. 

40. Benison. Cf Lear, i. i. 268 : "our grace, our love, our benison ;" 
Id. iv. 6. 229 : " The bounty and the benison of heaven." 



2o6 



NOTES. 







FORRES — EMINENCE AT THE WESTERN EXTREMITY. 



ACT III. 

Scene I. — 7. Shine. " Appear with all the lustre of conspicuous truth " 
(Johnson). ^v.. 

10. Hush, no more. " These words are in perfect moral keeping 
with Banquo's previous resolute fightings against evil suggestions" 
(Clarke). 

Sennet. Also written senjtit, senet, synnet, cynet, signet, and signate. It^ 
occurs often in the old stage directions, and " seems to indicate a partic- 
ular set of notes on the trumpet, or cornet, diiferent from a flourish " 
(Nares). See Hen. VIII. p. 176. 

13. All-thing. "Every way" (Schmidt). Cf. the adverbial use of 
nothing and something. The 2d folio has "all-things ;" the 3d and 4th, 
"all things." See Gr. 12, and cf..55 and 68. 

14. Solemn. "Ceremonious, formal" (Schmidt). Cf. T. A. v. 2. 115; 
" Solemn feast" (also in. A. W. ii. 3. 187) ; T. of S. iii. 2. 103 : "our sol- 
emn festival," etc. 

15. Let, etc. Rowe changed this to "Lay your Highness's ;"' Pope, 
to " Lay your highness'," which is also in the Coll. MS. " Command 
upon " is not found elsewhere in S., but in Per. iii. i. 3 we have the noun 
similarly used : 

" and thou, that hast 
Upon the winds command, bind them in brass." 

See Gr. 191, and cf. 139. 

Flathe (see above, p. 165) remarks here: "And Banquo can declare 



ACT III. SCENE I. 



207 



firm, unalterable fealty to the very man whom to himself he has just ac- 
cused, almost m so many words, of attaining the throne by the assassina- 
tion of his royal master ! Such a declaration could only have been made 
by one whose own heart is closely allied to evil. The emotion excited 
in Banquo's breast against Macbeth must become stronger. He feels 
obliged to invent fair words to conceal his secret. The hypocrite Mac- 
beth is served with hypocrisy." 
16. The which. See Gr. 270. 

21. Still. Always, ever ; as very often in S. Cf. M. of V. \. 1. 17, 136 ; 
Temp. i. 2. 229 ; Rich. II. ii. I. 22, etc. 

Grave. Weighty, of importance ; like the Latin gravis. Schmidt 
compares Rich. III. ii. 3. 20: "politic grave counsel." Prosperous — to 
our advantage. 

22. Take. Needlessly changed by Malone to "talk." 

25. Go not my horse, etc. Cf. Rich. II. ii. i. 300 : " Hold out my horse, 
and I will first be there." See Gr. 361, 364. 

The better. "The better, considering the distance he has to go" (C. 
P. ed.). See Gr. 94, 102. 

29. Are bestow'd. Have betaken themselves. Cf iii. 6. 24 below ; 
also IIa7?i. iii. i. 33, 44 ; Ileji. V. iv. 3. 68, etc. 

33. Therewithal, etc. That is, we shall have other state matters to 
discuss along with it. Cf Henry V. i. i. 45 : "any cause of policy." 

38. Co7?imend. See on i. 7. 11 above. " Commend you to their backs 
is said jestingly, with an affectation of formality " (C. P. ed.). 

39. Farewell. For the short line, see Gr. 512. 

41, 42. The folios have a comma after night, and a colon after welcome; 
which pointing is followed by Rowe, Pope, Delius, and others. Most 
editors adopt the punctuation in the text, first suggested by Theo. 

Schmidt makes welcome a noun ; the C. P. ed. is doubtful whether it is 
a noun or an adjective. In the latter case, sweeter is used adverbially. 
Cf T. of A. \. 2. 135 : " Music, make their welcome." 

Ourself. S. uses both ourself z.wdi ourselves in this " regal " sense. Cf 
Rich. II. i. I. 16 : "ourselves will hear;" Id. i. 4. 42 : " We will ourself 
in person," etc. 

43. While then. Till then. Cf Rich. II. i. 3. 122, and see note in our 
ed. p. 163. Gr. 137. 

God be with you- — ^'' God b' wi' you " (Walker). Gr. 461. Our good-by 
(cf the Fr. adieu) is perhaps a contraction of this contraction. See Wb. 

45. Our pleasure. Some of the early editors (so K. and St.) join these 
words to the preceding line. Cf. Gr. 512. 

47, 48. " To be thus (that is, to reign) is nothing; but to be safely thus 
is something" (Gr. 385). 

^o. Royalty. " Nobleness" (Schmidt). The testimony of Macbeth to 
Banquo's nobility of nature is a sufficient refutation of Flathe's views (pp. 
165, 182 above). 

50. Would be fear'' d. Is to be feared, should be feared. Gr. 329. 

51. To. In addition to. Gr. 185. Cf i. 6. 19. 
53. But. See Gr. 118. 

55, 56. My genius, etc. Cf. A and C. ii. 3. 19: 



2o8 NOTES. 

" Thy demon, that 's thy spirit* which keeps thee, is 
Noble, courageous, high, unmatchable. 
Where Caesar's is not; but near him thy angel 
Becomes a fear, as being o'erpower'd." 

This is from North's Plutarch : " For thy demon, said he (that is to 
say, the good angel and spirit that keepeth thee), is afraid of his ; and 
being courageous and high when he is alone, becometh fearful and timor- 
ous when he cometh near unto the other," On Genius, cf J. C. ii. i. 65. 

62. With. By. See Gr. 193. 

64. FiVd. Defiled ; but not that word contracted. It is used in prose ; 
as in Holland's Pliny, xiv. 19 : " If the grapes have been filed by any 
ordure or dung falne from above thereupon." Johnson says that to file is 
found in the Bishops' Bible. See Wb. also. 

66. Vessel. Often used figuratively by S. Cf. 2 Hen. IV. iv. 4. 44 ; 
y. C. V. 5. 13 ; W.T. iii. 3. 21, etc. 

d']. Eternal jewel. "Immortal soul" (C. P. ed.). For the use of 
eternal, cf K. John, iii. 4. 18: "the eternal spirit." 

69. Seed. The folios have " seedes " or " seeds," which W. retains. 

70. Thehst. Elsewhere S. has lists in this sense, Cf Rich. II. i, 2. 52 ; 
Id. i. 3. 32, 38, 43 ; I Hen. VI. v. 5, 32, etc. He has list several times in 
the more general sense of boundary, limit ; as in A. W. ii. i. 53 ; i Hen. 
IV. iv. I. 51 ; Ha7?i. iv. 5. 99, etc. 

71. Champion me to the uiterance. Fight with me cL otitrance. "A 
challenge, or a combat a routra7tce, to extremity, was a fixed term in the 
law of arms, used when the combatants engaged with an odium interne- 
cinum, an intention to destroy each other, in opposition to trials of skill 
at festivals, or on other occasions, where the contest was only for repu- 
tation or a prize" (Johnson). Cf Cymb. iii. i. 73 : " Behoves me keep at 
utterance " (that is, defend to the uttermost). Steevens quotes Golding's 
Ovid, Met. xiv. : 

"To both the parties at the length from battell for to rest, 
And not to fight to utterance." 

79. Conference. Metrically a dissyllable. Gr. 468. 

Pass'' d iji probation with you. Spent in proving to you. Y ox probation 
= proof, cf 0th. iii. 3. 365 ; M.for M. v. i. 156 ; Cymb, v. 5. 362, etc. 
■ 80. Borne in hajtd. Kept in expectation, flattered with false hopes. 
Cf. T. of S. iv. 2. 3 ; Cymb. v. 5. 43 ; Ha7n. ii. 2. 67, etc. In 1572, an act 
was passed against "such as practise abused sciences, whereby they bear 
the people in hand that they can tell their destinies, deaths," etc. 

82. To a notion craz'd. "Even to the most feeble apprehension " (Mo- 
berly). Cf Lear, i. 4. 248 : " His notion weakens ;" Cor. v, 6. 107 : " his 
own notion," etc. 

87. GospelPd. Governed by gospel precepts. See Matt. v. 44. 

9i?i.Topray. ^j to pray. Gr. 281. 

91. Ay, in the catalogue, etc. Yes, in a mere list of men as male human 
beings you would be reckoned, just as the meanest, cur is counted among 
dogs. 

93. Shoughs=^OQ!&s, (see Wb.). Water-rugs ys^x^ "a kind of poodle" 

* See above on i. 7. 53. 



ACT III. SCENE I. 



209 



(Schmidt) ; and ^^ demi-wolves, a cross between dogs and wolves, like the 
Latin lycisci'''' (Johnson). 

Clept. Participle from clepe, to call, Cf. Hain. i. 4. 19 : " They clepe 
us drunkards;" L.L.L.y. i. 23 : "he clepeth a calf cauf;" V. and A. 
995 : " She clepes him king of graves," etc. Yclept is the same participle 
with the old English prefix. S. uses it in L. L. L. i. i. 42 and v. 2. 602. 

94. The valued file. The classification according to value or quality, 
as distinguished from the " catalogue," or " the bill that writes them all 
alike." Schmidt makes it an adjective ; some take it to be the passive 
participle used in an active sense {valued = \2\\x\\\^. Cf Gr. 374. 

96. Housekeeper. Watch-dog. The C. P. ed. says that in Topsell's 
Hist, of Beasts {id^^ the " housekeeper " is enumerated among the kinds 
of dogs. Cf oiKovpog in Aristophanes, Vespce, 970, 

98. Clos'd. "Enclosed" (Schmidt). Cf R. and J. i. 4. no: "a de- 
spised life clos'd in my breast." 

99. Addition. Cf i. 3. 106. On/r^;« = apart from, see Gr. 158. 

102. Worst is lengthened metrically into a " quasi-dissyllable " (Gr. 485), 
as enemy, two lines below, is contracted into one (Gr. 468). 

105. Grapples. On the metaphor, cH.Ham. i. 3. 63 : " Grapple them to 
thy soul with hoops of steel." See also He7t. V. iii. prol. 18. 

106. In. " In the case of" (Gr. 162). Cf Rich. II. ii. 2. 10 : " In Ross 
and Willoughby," etc. 

107. On the measure, see Gr. 497. 

III. Tugg'd zvith forfujie. Pulled about in wrestling with fortune. 
Cf W. T. iv. 4, 508 : " Let myself and fortune Tug for the time to come." 
See also K. John, iv. 3. 146 ; 2 Hcjz. VI. iii. 2. 173, etc. 

1 13. On V. Of it. Cf line 130 below, and see on i. 3. 84 above. Gr. 182. 

115. Distance. " Alienation " (Schmidt). It was a fencing term, denot- 
ing the space between antagonists (D.). Cf M. W. ii. i. 233 ; " In these 
times, you stand on distance, your passadoes, stoccadoes, and I know not 
what ;" Id. ii. 3. 27 : "thy punts, thy stock, thy reverse, thy distance," 
etc. See also A. W. v. 3. 212 ; R. and J. ii. 4. 22, etc. 

117. My nearest of life. My inmost life. See on ii. 1.24: "kind'st 
leisure." Gr. 473. 

119. Bid my will avouch it. Let my will answer for it, own it as an 
arbitrary act. Cf M. N. D. i. i. 106 ; Hen. V. v. i. 77, etc. 

120. For. Because of Gr. 150. 

121. Loves. For the plural, cf i^/r/^. //. iv. i. 314: "your sights;" 
and see note in our ed. p. 206. On may, see Gr. 310 ; and on bict, Gr. 385. 

122. Who. See Gr. 218, 274. Cf iii. 4. 42 and iv. 3. 171 below. 

128. Advise. Instruct. Cf Lear, i. 3. 23 ; Hen. VIII. i. 2. 107, etc. 

129. The perfect spy <?' the time. The precise time when you may look 
for him. The Coll. MS. has "a perfect spy," which W. adopts, referring 
it to the man who joins the murderers in scene 3. Various emendations 
have been suggested, but they are not worth mentioning. 

130. On V. Of the time ; or, perhaps, of the deed. 

131. Somethijtg from. At some distance away from. See Gr. 68, 158. 
Always thought, etc. It being kept in mind (Gr. 378) that I must be 

free from suspicion. 

o 



2IO NOTES. 

133. Rubs. Hindrances, impediments ; a term in bowling. See Rich 
II. iii. 4. 4, and note in our ed. p. 197. 

136. Embrace. " Undergo, suffer" (Schmidt). Cf. T. G. of V. v. 4. 126 : 
"Thurio, give back, or else embrace thy death." 

137. Resolve yourselves. Come to a determination, make up your minds. 
Cf. A. and C. iii. 11. 9 ; 3 Hen. VI. i. i. 49 ; W. T. v. 3. 86, etc. 

140. Hunter remarks that such negotiations with assassins were not 
uncommon in the age of Elizabeth. An instance had recently occurred 
in the neighbourhood of Stratford. Lodowick Grevile, who dwelt at Se- 
soncote, in Gloucestershire, and at Milcote, in Warwickshire, coveting the 
estate of one Webb, his tenant, plotted to murder him and get the estate 
by a forged will. This was successfully accomplished by the aid of two 
servants whom Grevile engaged to do the deed. Fearing detection, one 
of the assassins afterwards murdered his comrade. The body was found, 
and the investigation led to the arrest and conviction of Grevile and his 
servant, the surviving murderer. Grevile stood mute, and was pressed 
to death on November 14, 1589. The circumstance must have been well 
known to S., as the Greviles were at this time patrons of the living of 
Stratford. 

Scene II. — 5. Contejit. Satisfaction, Clarke remarks : " This brief 
soliloquy allows us to see the deep-seated misery of the murderess, the 
profound melancholy in which she is secretly steeped ; while on the in- 
stant that she sees her husband she can rally her forces, assume exterior 
fortitude, and resume her accustomed hardness of manner, with which to 
stimulate him by remonstrance almost amounting to reproach." 

Gericke (quoted by Furness) says : " This profound sigh from the 
depths of a deeply wounded soul is the key to all that we afterwards 
hear and learn of Lady Macbeth. A complaint has been urged that be- 
tween: her first and last appearance the connecting link, the bridge, is 
wanting : here, and only here, is this bridge supplied. Here for an in- 
stant we overhear her, and from her own lips learn what her pride, her 
love for Macbeth even, will not suffer to be uttered aloud ; it is what she 
convulsively locks in her breast, and what at last breaks her heart. This 
short monologue is the sole preparation for the sleep-walking and the 
death of the woman ; her death would be unintelligible did we not here 
see the beginning of the end." 

9. Sorriest. See on ii. 2. 20 above. 

ID. Using. Cherishing. St. suggested " Nursing " as an emendation, 
but as Schmidt remarks, S. joins ttse "with the most different nouns al- 
most periphrastically." 

II. Without all remedy. Beyond all remedy ; or all = 2i\\y (Schmidt), 
as in Hen. VIII. iv. I. 113 : " without all doubt ;" Sonn. 74. 2 : " without 
all bail." See Gr. 12, 197 ; and for the measure, 468. 

13. Scotch' d. The folios have "scorch'd." Theo. made the change. 
Cf. Cor. iv. 5. 198. 

16. Frame of things. C£ Ham. ii. 2. 310: "This goodly frame, the 
earth." 

Both the imrlds. Heaven and earth. Cf. Ham, iv. 5. 134, where it 
means "this world and the next." 



ACT III. SCENE II. 211 

20. 71? gam our peace. The later folios have " our place," which is 
adopted by Pope, Johnson, Steevens, Malone, Sr., Hudson, St., and D. 
As K. remarks, "the repetition of the ytaox^ peace seems very much in S.'s 
manner ; and . . . there is something much higher in the sentiment con- 
veyed by the original word than in that oi place. In the very contem- 
plation of the murder of Banquo, Macbeth is vainly seeking for peace. 
Banquo is the object that makes him eat his meal in fear and sleep in 
terrible dreams." 

21. On the torture, etc. "To lie upon the rack of our own thoughts, 
in a frenzy of restlessness " (Moberly). Ecstasy in S. means " any state 
of being beside one's self" (Schmidt). Cf. iv. 3. 170 below. See also 
Teinp. iii. 3. 108 ; Much Ado, ii. 3. 157 ; T. A. iv. i. 125, etc. 

23. Life' s fitful fever. Cf. M.for M. iii. I. 75 : " a feverous life." 

27. Gentle my lord. Like '' Good my lord," etc. See Gr. 13. 

Sleek is not used elsewhere as a verb by S. Cf Milton, Comus, 882 : 
" Sleeking her soft alluring locks." " The word, verb or adjective, is al- 
most always applied to the hair" (C. P. ed.). 

30. Let yoicr remembrance, etc. "Take care to do all honour to Ban- 
quo by looks and words of the deepest respect ; though our royalty will 
never be safe, so long as it is necessary to keep our honours bright by 
steeping them in flattery " (Moberly). 

Remembrance is here a quadrisyllable. See Gr. 477. 

32. That. On the construction, see Gr. 284. 

34. Visards. Masks. Cf. M. W. iv, 4. 70 ; L. L. L. v. 2. 242, 246, 271, 
385, 404, etc. 

35. Leave. Leave off. Cf. "Where did I leave.?" in V. and A. 'jiif 
and Rich. II. v. 2. 4 ; and " Where left we last ?" in T of S. iii. i. 26. 

37. Lives. Cf rzins in i. 3. 147. Gr. 336. 

38. But in them, etc. The C. P. ed. explains the passage thus : " The 
deed by which man holds life of Nature gives no right to perpetual ten- 
ure. Nature is here compared to a lord of the manor under whom men 
hold their lives by copyhold tenure. ' Copyhold, Te^itcra per copiam ro- 
tuli curice, is a tenure for which the tenant hath nothing to shew but the 
copy of the rolls made by the steward of his lord's court. . . . Some copy- 
holds are fineable at will, and some certain : that which is fineable at will, 
the lord taketh at his pleasure ' (Cowel's Law Dictionary, s. v.). Monck 
Mason takes ' Nature's copy ' to mean the human form divine. Steevens 
and Elwin agree in this interpretation. The latter quotes 0th. v. 2. 1 1 : 

' Thou cunning'st pattern of excelling Nature.' 

But from what follows in line 49 it would seem that Shakespeare made 
here, as in so many other passages, a reference to legal phraseology. 
Compare, for instance, Sonn. 13. 5 : 

' So should that beauty which you hold in lease 
Find no determination.' 

And see also iv. i. 99 of this play." 

Note Fletcher's comments on this passage (p. 29 above). 

41. Cloister'' d. Steevens remarks : " The bats wheeling round the dim 



212 NOTES. 

cloisters of Queen's College, Cambridge, have frequently impressed on 
me the singular propriety of this original epithet." 

42. Shard-borne. The old English name of the horny wing-cases of 
the beetle was shards. Cf A. and C. iii. 2. 20 : " They are his shards and 
he their beetle " (that is, they serve as wings for him) ; Cynib. iii. 3. 20 : 
" the sharded beetle." Steevens cites Gower, Co7if. Am. : " a dragon tlio, 
Whose scherdes shinen as the sonne " (that is, his scales, or scaly wings). 
The 3d and 4th folios have " shard-born," and some have retained that 
reading, explaining the word as = " dung-born." For the various mean- 
ings of shard, and its derivation, see Wb. 

44. JVbfe. The word, as Schmidt says, is used for " any distinction or 
eminence." Cf. A. W. v. 3. 14 : " Offence of mighty note ;" L. C. 233 : 
"of holiest note," etc. 

45. Chicck. A term of endearment, corrupted from chick. Cf. 0th. iii. 
4. 49 : " What promise, chuck ?" and see Id. iv. 2. 24 : A. and C. iv. 4. 2 ; 
Hen. V. iii. 2. 26, etc. 

R. H. Hiecke {Shakespeare' s Macbeth erldiitert und gewilrdigt, quoted 
by Furness) remarks : " Must all the reiterated terms of endearment in 
this scene, these manifold inflections in ever softer modulations, be deem- 
ed meaningless in such a poet as Shakespeare .''... Of all the deeply 
tragic passages of this drama, this is the deepest. Unintentionally and 
unconsciously there here breathes from Macbeth's soul an echo of that 
happier time when the mutual esteem of a heroic pair was accompanied 
by the delicate attentions of first love. And, moreover, this state of feel- 
ing (at such a moment as this) is psychologically true, when we see them, 
as in the days of first love, united by the possession of a common secret. 
But what a secret is it that they now share ! This involuntary return to 
the tone of a happier time, now, alas ! vanished — for that early love has 
been long since overgrown in each by ambition — becomes in the phrases 
with which he unfolds his present situation to his wife the most cutting 
irony. Just as ambition, at first not alien to either of the pair, but grown 
at last by degrees the complete master of all other sentiments, has caused 
their love for each other to cool, until we see them united solely by a 
fiendish alliance in pursuit of an ambitious end — so here this \o\t, grown 
cold, was murdered in the murder of the king, and the tenderness in this 
scene is naught but a dirge, rising unconsciously from the soul, over the 
sentiments of an earlier time." 

46. Seeling. Blinding ; a term in falconry. " To seel is to close the 
eyelids partially or entirely, by passing a fine thread through them ; this 
was done to hawks until they became tractable" (Nares). Cf. 0th. i. 3. 
270 and iii. 3. 210 ; also A. and C. iii. 13. 112. 

49. Cancel, etc. Cf. Rich. III. iv. 4. 77 : " Cancel his bond of life, dear 
God, I pray ;" and Cyinb. v. 4. 27 : 

" take this life, 
And cancel these cold bonds." 

50. Light thickens. Cf. A. and C. ii. 3. 27 : ^ 

"He beats thee 'gainst the odds; thy lustre thickens 
When he shines by." 



ACT III. SCENE ITL 



213 



Steevens quotes '^\^\.<^tx , Faithful Shepherdess : "Fold your flocks up, 
for the air Gins to thicken ;" and Malone adds Spenser, Shep. Kal. : 
"But see, the welkin thicks apace." 

51. Rooky. It would seem natural to interpret this as = rook-haunted, 
frequented by rooks or crows. Mitford says : " The passage simply means, 
'the rook hastens its evening flight to the wood where its fellows are 
already assembled;'" and Clarke remarks: "The very epithet rooky 
appears to us to caw with the sound of many bed-ward rooks bustling 
and croaking to their several roosts." But this does not satisfy certain 
editors, who have found an old word roky meaning misty. So Edwards 
{Canons of Criticism, 1765), Steevens, and the C. P. ed. explain it as == 
damp, misty, foggy, gloomy, etc. 

52. See extract from Dowden, p. 39 above. Drowse is used by S. only 
here and in i Hen. IV. iii. 2. 81. 

53. Whiles. See on ii. 1.60. For the plural preys (perhaps = " their 
several preys ") cf. iii. i. 121 and v. 8. 61. Rouse is used intransitively by 
S. only here and in v. 5. 12. 

54. 55. The C. P. editors think that " this couplet reads like an inter- 
polation." 

56. Go with me. Delius takes this to mean " Aid me, or let me quiet- 
ly carry out my plan," and compares Lear, i. i. 107 : " But goes thy heart 
with this ?" Moberly explains it, " Understand what my meaning is." 
Schmidt gives examples of^tj with— digxQQ, accord ; as Haiti, i. 2. 15, i. 3. 
28, i. 5. 49 ; Lear, iv. 7. 5, etc. 

Scene III. — Some critics have thought that the 3d Murderer was 
Macbeth himself in disguise. See Furness, p. 160, dixxd Notes and Queries 
for Sept. II, Oct. 2, Nov. 13, and Dec. 4, 1869. 

2. He needs not our mistrust, etc. " We may trust him, for Macbeth 
has evidently told him all we have to do. Macbeth's uneasiness makes 
him reinforce the party with a cleverer hand" (Moberly). .See Gr. 308; 
and on to in line 4, Gr. 187. 

6. Lated. Belated. Used by S. only here and in A. and C. iii. 11. 3 : 
" I am so lated in the world." Gr. 290." 

7. To gai?i the timely inn. Probably, to gain the inn betimes. The 
C. P. ed. prefers to make timely = " welcome, opportune ;" and Schmidt 
explains it, " early, soon attained." 

ID. The note of expectation. The list of expected guests. Under note 
— list, Schmidt cites also M. W. iv. 2. 64 ; T. of S. i. 2. 145, etc. 

II. His horses. Horn (quoted by Furness) says: " S., who dared do 
all that poet ever dared, nevertheless did not dare to bring upon the' 
stage — a horse. And very properly ; for there where noble poets repre- 
' sent the world's history upon the ' boards that imitate the world,' there 
no brutes should be allowed. But in the present scene it is hard to avoid 
introducing a horse, and the poet has to obviate the difficulty in four al- 
most insignificant lines, in order to account for the absence of the steeds. 
It is after all undoubtedly better not to shrink from two or three such 
trivial lines than to have a horse come clattering on the stage." 

14 Ejiter Fleance with a torch. Here again, as Coll. notes, Fleance 



214 NOTES. 

carries the torch to light his father. The "Servant" of many modern 
eds. is an interpolation. See on ii. i. i. 

Scene IV. — i. At first And last. Probably = once for all. Schmidt 
explains it "from the beginning to the end," and compares i Hen. VI. 
V. 5. 102. Johnson would read "to first And last;" that is, to "all, of 
whatever degree, from the highest to the lowest." 

3. Our self. See on iii. i. 42. 

5. Her state. " Her chair of state at the head of the table " (Steevens)o 
Cf T. N. ii. 5. 50 : " Sitting in our state ;" i Hen. IV. ii. 4. 415 : " This 
chair shall be my state ;" Cor. v. 4. 22 : " He sits in his state," etc. 

In best time. Used by S. only here, though he often has "in good 
time." 

6. Require. Request, ask; not in the stronger sense of "demand." 
Cf Hen. VIII. ii. 4. 144 : " In humblest manner I require your highness ;" 
A. and C. iii. 12. 12 : 

' ' Lord of his fortunes he salutes thee, 
And requires to hve in Egypt," etc. 

8. Speaks. Says. Cf 0th. v. 2. 327, and iv. 3. 154 below. 

II. Large. " Unrestrained " (Schmidt). Cf A. and C. iii. 6. 93 : " large 
In his abominations." 

Anon. Macbeth has just caught sight of the murderer standing at the 
door, and wishes to dismiss him before pledging the measure (Delius). 
On meastire, cf 0th. ii. 3. 31. 

14. ' T is better, etc. 'T is better that the blood should be on thy face 
than in his body ; or it may possibly mean, " it is better that his blood 
were on thy face than he in this room" (Johnson). Hunter believes that, 
the words are uttered aside, and mean " that, horrible as it is, thus in the 
midst of the feast, to behold the assassin of his friend just without the 
door, it is still better than that Banquo himself should be alive and with- 
in the hall a guest at this entertainment." If we accept the first expla- 
nation, he within = within him. Cf A. and C. iii. 13. 98 : " So saucy with 
the hand of she here." See other examples in Gr.. 206-214. 

19. Nonpareil. S. always uses the definite article with this word, ex- 
cept in Temp. iii. 2. 108 (Delius). 

20. Scap d. Not " 'scap'd," as often printed. The word is found in 
prose ; as in Bacon, Adv. of L. ii. 14 9 : " such as had scaped shipwreck." 
S. uses it much oftener than escape. Cf Wb. 

23. Casing. Surrounding. Moberly quotes 0th. iii. 3. 464 : " You ele- 
ments that clip us round about." 

25. Saucy doubts and fears. His fellow-prisoners in this confinement 
(Delius). Schmidt explains saticy here as " unbounded, extravagant," 
and considers the passage "a very expressive oxymoron." The C. P. 
ed. makes j^iz^rj/ = " insolent, importunate, like the Latin improbus,'' 
Cf 0th. i. I. 129 ; J. C. i. 3. 12, etc. 

27. Trenched gashes. Cf V. and A. 1052 : 

"the wide wound that the boar had trench'd 
In his soft flank;" 



ACT III. SCENE IV. 215 

and T. G. ef V. iii. 2. 7 : 

" This weak impress of love is as a figure 
Trenched in ice." 

29. Worm. Frequently used by Elizabethan writers for a serpent 
(Nares). Cf. M.for M. iii. i.iT, M.N. D. iii. 2. 71 ; A. and C. v. 2. 243. 
256, 261, 268, etc. 

32. We 7/ /^mr ourselves again. We '11 talk the matter over again. 
Under '' ourselves — ezch. other," Schmidt cites, besides this passage, 
T. and C. iv. 4. 42 : 



Id. iv. 4. 140 



' We two, that with so many thousand sighs 
Did buy each other, must poorly sell ourselves ;' ' 



' Lady, give me your hand, and, as we walk, 
To our own selves bend we our needful talk ;" 



and K. Johji, ii. i. 407 : " Make work upon ourselves." 

Some editors put a comma after hear, making ourselves again — when 

I am once more myself; others point it thus: "We 'II hear, ourselves, 

again." Theo.,Warb., and Johnson read " We '11 hear 't ourselves again;" 

Hanmer and Capell, " We '11 hear thee ourselves again." 

33. The cheer. Schmidt explains this, " the merry disposition which 

should attend a feast;" the C. P. ed. "the usual welcome." The latter 

seems more in keeping with the context. 

The feast is sold., etc. It is like selling a feast, not giving it, if you do 

not often assure your guests that it is given gladly. On a-making, see 

Gr. 24, 140. 

35. To feed, etc. " Mere feeding would be best done at home " (C. P. 
ed.). 

36. From thence. Away from home. See Gr. 41 ; and on to, Gr. 185. 
As the C. P. ed. remarks, there is no play upon words in meat and meet- 
ing, as the former word was pronounced mate in S.'s time. See White's 
Shakespeare, vol. xii. p. 417 ; and cf the rhyme oi sea with I>laj/ in lien. 
VIII. iii. I. 9, "ID, etc. In T. G. of V. i. 2. 68, 69, there is a play upon 
"meat" and "maid." 

37. On the measure, see Gr. 494. 

38. Cf Hen. VIII. i. 4. 92 : 

" A good digestion to you all ; and, once more, 
I shower a welcome on ye. Welcome, all." 

Dr. Bucknill calls this " a somewhat physiological grace." 

39. May H please your highness sit. That is, to sit. Cf Hen. VIIT. 
i. 4. 19, and Gr. 349. We have the to inserted z.i\.ex please just below in 
line 45. 

40. Roofd. Under one roof S. does not use the verb roof in its 
modern sense. 

41. Graced. " Full of graces " (Schmidt). Cf Lear, i. 4. 267 ; " a 
grac'd palace." 

42. Who. See on iii. i. 122. Gr. 274. Douce paraphrases the passage 
thus : " I have more cause to accuse him of unkindness for his absence 
than to pity him for any accident or mischance that may have occasioned 



21 6 NOTES. 

it ;" but, as Sr. remarks, May I seems to imply here a wish ("I hope 1 
may rather have to accuse him," etc.) than an assertion, 

43-45. Hunter remarks that it is during this speech that the ghost first 
becomes visible to Macbeth. He had been about to take his seat accord- 
ing to the invitation of Lennox, but now, full of horror, instead of doing 
so, he starts back, which leads to the invitation of Ross. 

Some critics have thought that it is Duncan's ghost, not Banquo's, that 
first appears. It is said that lines 71-73 cannot apply to Banquo, who 
had not been buried ; but the same objection may be made to the words, 
'* thy bones are marrowless " (94), addressed to the second ghost. These 
are simply Macbeth's vivid expression of the general idea of coming back 
from the dead, and must not be taken literally. Macbeth was thinking 
and speaking of Banquo, and it is both natural and dramatically proper 
that his ghost, if any, should rise at the mention of his name ; and the 
second appearance is in response to Macbeth's renewed reference to him. 
This view is confirmed by Dr. Forman's testimony (see p. 10, foot-note). 

For an abstract of the arguments on both sides of this question, see 
Furness's Macbeth, pp. 167-172. 

Another question that has been much discussed is whether the ghost 
should be represented on the stage. Even if the ghost is an objective 
reality, and not a mere hallucination, like the "air-drawn dagger," it is 
evident that no one sees it but Macbeth ;* and, as Fletcher remarks, it 
seems an outrage to our senses that the apparition should be visible " to 
us, the distant audience, when he is invisible to every one of the guests 
who crowd the table at which he seats himself in the only vacant chair." 

But is the ghost objective or subjective t Here too the critics are at 
odds. Dr. Bucknill {Mad Folk of S. p. 27) says : " Macbeth at this junc- 
ture is in a state of mind closely bordering upon disease, if he have not 
actually passed the limit. He is hallucinated, and he believes in the hal- 
lucination. The reality of the air-drawn dagger he did not believe in, 
but referred its phenomena to their proper source. Between that time 
and the appearance of Banquo the stability of Macbeth's reason had un- 
dergone a fearful ordeal. ... In the point of view of psychological criti- 
cism, the fear of his wife in ii. 2. 33, 34 appears on the eve of being fulfill- 
ed by the man, when to sleepless nights, and days of brooding melancholy, 
is added that undeniable indication of insanity, a credited hallucina- 
tion . . . Macbeth, however, saved himself from actual insanity by rushing 
from the maddening horrors of meditation into a course of decisive, res- 
olute action. From henceforth he gave himself no time to reflect ; he 
made the firstlings of his heart the firstlings of his hand ; he became a 
fearful tyrant ; but he escaped madness." 

Rotscher {Die Kunst der draviatischen Darstellung, quoted by Furness) 
remarks : " The appearance of Banquo's ghost is the direct result of 
Macbeth's state of mind ; the ghost is therefore visible only to him. 
Everything around and about Macbeth is, for Macbeth, as though it were 

* Mrs. Siddons had an idea that Lady Macbeth beheld the spectre, and that her self- 
control and presence of mind enabled her to appear unconscious of the ghostly presence ; 
but, as Mrs. Jameson remarks, this would be superhuman, and neither the character not 
the text bears out the supposition. 



ACT III. SCENE IV. 



217 



not ; the instant that Banquo's ghost rises, he is completely transported 
out of himself, and is engrossed solely with the creatures of his brain. 
The difficult task which the actor has before him, when portraying the 
effect upon Macbeth of this apparition, is to make us feel in every speech 
addressed to the ghost that mental horror of the soul, that demoniacal 
terror of the mind, which communicates itself with irresistible power to 
every expression of the face and voice. The more conscious Macbeth 
becomes of this irresistible power, by the reappearance of the ghost, the 
more horror-stricken does he grow, until at last he is completely un- 
manned. The gradually increasing effect of this apparition depends, 
therefore, upon the power the actor has of unfolding the mental distrac- 
tion, the growing discord, in the soul of Macbeth. Most actors endeavour 
to portray this climax by mere physical strength of voice, by struggling 
as it were to make a more powerful impression upon the ghost, whereas 
the mental horror at the sight of an apparition can only be made truly 
manifest by the intense strength of a terror which one strives to repress. 
It is not the heightened voice of passion, growing ever louder and loud- 
er, but the trembling tones almost sinking to a whisper, that can give us 
the true picture of the power of the apparition in this scene. It is Mac- 
beth's vain struggle to command himself, and the dark forces constantly 
bursting forth with increasing power from his internal consciousness, 
that we want to see portrayed by the revelation of his mental exhaustion, 
and by his control over face and voice, weakened by mental terror. 
Thus alone can this scene be produced as it was in the mind of the poet ; 
assuredly one of the greatest tasks ever set before an actor." 

A. Mezieres {Shakespeare, ses (Etivi'es et ses Critiques, also quoted by 
Furness) says on this point : " If the contemporaries of Shakespeare be- 
lieved in witches, they also believed in spectres, and ghosts permitted to 
quit their abode of darkness to revisit this upper world. But the poet 
introduces spirits of a different sort in Hamlet and Macbeth, when he re- 
suscitates Banquo and the King of Denmark. Are we to believe, as has 
been asserted, that these shadows are mere phantoms of the brain, ap- 
pearing only to men of vivid imagination ? Undoubtedly Banquo shows 
himself only to Macbeth, and remains invisible to the guests at table ; 
and Gertrude does not see the spirit of her dead husband at the moment 
he is visible to their son. But the king'^s ghost walked in sight of the 
sentries on the ramparts of Elsinore, before accosting Hamlet. So far is 
it from the poet's intention to leave in the vague realm of dreams the 
phantoms he evokes that he is careful to clothe them with garments 
and with all the external peculiarities of life ; he gives gashes to one, and 
to the other his very armour, his sable-silvered beard, his majesty and 
measured speech. Herein lies the originality of these apparitions. Pos« 
sessing in truth only a conventional existence, the magic wand of the 
poet that invoked them has bestowed on them an appearance of living 
reality. They play the same part that the traditional dream filled in our 
classic tragedy, but they play it with all the advantage of action over re- 
cital. Instead, like Athalie, of beholding an imaginary vision, Macbeth 
and Hamlet see with their bodily eyes, the one his victims, the other his 
father, and these ghosts act more powerfully upon them than any mere 



2i8 NOTES. 

dream possibly could. Shakespeare, far bolder than our poets, brings 
before the very eyes of the spectator those supernatural figures which 
our stage contents itself with depicting only to the fancy, without pro- 
ducing them to the sight." 

50. Thoii canst not say I did it. This is cited by W. and others as 
proving that the ghost was Banquo's. K. remarks : " If it be Duncan's 
ghost, we must read : ' Thou canst not say I did it.' " 

55. Upon a thought. Used by S. only here. It is = " with a thought," 
which occurs in Temp. iv. i. 64, J. C. v. 3. 19, A. and C. iv. 14. 9, i Hen. 
IV. ii. 4. 241, etc. Cf K. John, iv. 2. 175 : " fly like thought ;" L. L. L. 
iv. 3. 330 : " as swift as thought," etc. 

57. Extend his passion. Prolong the fit. Passion is used by S. of 
"any violent commotion of the mind" (Schmidt). Cf. iv. 3. 114. On 
shall, see Gr. 315 ; and on the measure of the next line, Gr. 453. 

60. O proper stuff. Ironical and contemptuous. /';'<?/£'?•(= fine, pret- 
ty, etc.) is often so used. Cf 2 Hen. VI. i. i. 132 : "A proper jest, and 
never heard before ;" Heji. VIII. i. i. 98 : " A proper title of a peace ;" 
Much Ado, i. 3. 54: "A proper squire !" On stuff cf Temp. ii. i. 254: 
" What stuff is this ?" 2 Hen. IV. ii. 4. 214 : " Here's goodly stuff to- 
ward !" etc. 

63. Flaws. It is of course fiatv — gVi^X. of wind, that is here used fig- 
uratively ; as in M.for M. ii. 3. ii : " the flaws of her own youth," etc. 

64. Impostors to true fear. " Impostors when compared with true 
fear " (Mason). See Gr."'i87. 

65. The C. P. ed. quotes W. T ii. i. 25 : 

"A sad tale 's best for winter: I have one 
Of sprites and goblins." 

66. Authorized by. Given on the authority of Cf I. C. 104 : " His 
rudeness so with his authorized youth;" and Sonn. 35. 6 : "Authorizing 
thy trespass with compare." S. uses the word in these three places only, 
and in all with the accent on the second syllable. See Gr. 491. 

73. Steevens compares Spenser, F. Q. ii. 8, 16 : 

" What herce or steed (said he) should he have dight, 
But be entombed in the raven or the kight?" 

The Stage direction, " Ghost vanishes," which is required by the con- 
text, was inserted by Rowe. 

76. Human. It is "humane'' in the folios, in which the modern "hu- 
man" is nowhere found (Schmidt). The accent is always on the first 
syllable, not excepting (says Schmidt) W. T. iii. 2. 166. In Milton, the 
modern distinction, in meaning and accent, between htimane and humati 
is recognized. As the C. P. ed. remarks, there are some passages in S. 
where it is difficult to determine which of the two senses best fits the 
word ; indeed both might be blended in the mind of the writer. 

Gentle is proleptic. Cf i. 6. 3. 

80. There an end. Cf Rich. II. v. I. 69. 

81. Mortal. See on i. 5. 39 ; and cf iv. 3. 3. 

84. Lack. Miss ; as in Cor. iv. i. 15, A. V. L. iv. i. 182, A. and C ii. 2. 
172, etc. 



ACT III. SCENE IV. 219 

85. Muse. Wonder. Cf. V. and A. 866 : " Musing the morning is so 
much o'erworn ;" T. G. of V. i. 3. 64 : " Muse not that I thus suddenly 
proceed," etc. 

91. To all and him, etc. I long to drink his health and that of all ; 
and to wish every one all good. The C. P. ed. quotes jf. C. iv. 3. 160, 
T. of A. i. 2. 234, and Hen. VIII. i. 4. 38. 

95. Speadatlon. Cf. T. and C. iii. 3. 109. In Tear, iii. i. 24 ("spies 
and speculations Intelligent of our state "), it is used in a concrete sense 
= speculators, observers, watchers (Schmidt). The C. P. ed. remarks: 
"The eyes are called 'speculative instruments' in 0th. i. 3. 271. John- 
son, quoting this passage, explains ' speculation ' by ' the power of sight ;' 
but it means more than this — the intelligence of which the eye is the me- 
dium, and which is perceived in the eye of a living man. So the eye is 
called 'that most pure spirit of sense,' in T and C. iii. 3. 106; and we 
have the haste that looks through the eyes, i. 2. 46 of this play, and a sim- 
ilar thought, iii. i. 127. See also i Hen. VI. ii. 4. 24, and L. L. L. v. 2. 

8a8 ■ 

^ ' ' The window of my heart, mine eye.' " 

100. Russian bear. Cf. Hen. V. iii. 7. 154. 

loi. Arm'd. "Armoured ;" to use a word applied nowadays to iron- 
clad ships of war. 

For the Hyrcan tiger, cf. 3 Hen. VI i. 4. 155 : "tigers of Hyrcania," 
and Ham. ii. 2. 472 : "the Hyrcanian beast." In M. of V. ii. 7. 41, we 
have " Hyrcanian deserts." Malone quotes Daniel, Sojinets (1594) : " To 
Hyrcan tigers, and to ruthless beares ;" and Reed adds Riche's Simoni- 
des (1584) : "like to Hyrcan tigers." Hyrcania was a district south and 
south-east of the Caspian Sea. The C. P. ed. says that these English 
poets probably derived their ideas of Hyrcania and the tigers from 
Pliny's Natural History, but not through Holland's translation, which 
was not published till 1601. It seems to us quite as likely that they had 
in mind Virgil's mention of the beasts in ^n. iv. 367 : " Hyrcanaeque 
admorunt ubera tigres." 

104. Dare me to the desert, etc. Cf. Rich. II. i. i. 62-66. 

105. If trembling I inhabit then. This is the great crtix of the play, 
and space would fail us for enumerating the various emendations and 
explanations that the critics have suggested. We give the reading and 
pointing of the ist folio. The later folios have, "If trembling I inhabit, 
then protest," etc. Pope changed this to " inhibit, then," which Steev- 
ens modified to "inhibit thee." These are the most plausible of the 
many readings proposed, but on the whole we prefer to keep to the folio. 
W. explains the passage : " If I then am encompassed by trembling, and 
so, if I inhabit trembling — a use of inhabit highly figurative and exceed- 
ingly rare, but which is neither illogical nor without example." Cf. 
Psalms, xxii. 3 : " O thou that inhabitest the praises of Israel." Schmidt 
makes inhabit=" to take as a habit (whether a costume or a custom), to 
do on." Moberly renders it, " If I keep house, shrink under shelter," but 
prefers "I inhibit thee." Henley and St. take it to be — "If I, through 
fear, remain trembling in my castle." Cf. Milton, P. I. vii. 163 : " Mean- 
while inhabit lax, ye powers of heaven " (that is, dwell at large — Cice- 



2 20 NOTES. 

ro's " habitare laxe "). Steevens thinks that inhahit may mean *' stay 
within doors," and cites A. V. L. iii. 3. 10 : " O knowledge, ill-inhabited ! 
worse than Jove in a thatched house !" (that is, ill-lodged). 

106. The baby of a girl. Walker, D., W., Moberly, Schmidt, and 
others make baby — AoW. ; the C. P. ed. explains it as "infant," the other 
meaning not being found elsewhere in S. It occurs, however, in Sidney, 
Jonson, and other writers of the time. Walker quotes Sidney, Arcadia: 
" young babes think babies of wondrous excellency, and yet the babies 
are but babies;" and Astrophel and Stella: "Sweet babes must babies 
have, but shrewd girls must be beaten." 

107. Mockery. "Mimicry, delusive imitation" (Schmidt). CL Rich. 
II. iv. I. 260, and Hen. V. iv. prol. 53. 

109. Displac''d. " Banished " (Schmidt). On broke, see Gr. 343. 
no. Admir''d. To be wondered at, strange; if it be not used iron- 
ically = admirable. 

111. Overcome. Spread over, overshadow. Farmer quotes Spenser, 
F. Q. iii. 7, 4 : " All coverd with thick woodes that quite it overcame." 

112, 113. You make nie strange, etc. " You render me a stranger to, or 
forgetful of, the brave disposition which I know I possess, and make me 
fancy myself a coward, when I perceive that I am terrified by a sight that 
has not in the least alarmed you " (Malone). So Schmidt makes disposi- 
tion here = " natural constitution of the mind." The C. P. ed. takes it to 
mean "temporary mood," as in Lear, i. 4. 241, and Ham. i. 5. 172, and 
adds : " The general sense of the present passage may therefore be thus 
expressed : ' You makfe me a stranger even to my own feelings, unable 
to comprehend the motive of my fear.' He is not addressing his wife 
alone, but the whole company. He is particularly staggered by the fact 
that every one except himself is unmoved." 

For ozve-=o^w, possess, see i. 3. 76, i. 4. 10, etc. 

116. Mine. Possibly, as some explain it, referring to rtiby, not to 
cheeks ; but S. did not always trouble himself to make his pronouns agree 
in number with their antecedents. He very often has a singular relative 
(or at least one used as the subject of a singular verb) with a plural ante- 
cedent ; as in Cymb. i. 6. 1 17: "your graces that charms." See many 
other examples in Gr. 247. W., following Hanmer and Johnson, reads 
"cheek," because " S., when he makes the cheek a sign, or exponent, or 
type, uses the word in the singular number." But see v. 3. 16 : "those 
linen cheeks of thine ;" i Hen. IV. ii. 3. 47 : " Why hast thou lost the 
fresh blood in thy cheeks T'' T. A. iii. 2. 38 : " her sorrow, mesh'd upon 
her cheeks ;" K. John, ii. i. 225 : " To save unscratch'd your city's 
threaten'd cheeks ;" Rich. II. iii. 3. 57 : " the cloudy cheeks of heaven " 
(but in Temp. i. 2. 4.: " the welkin's cheek") ; and many similar passages 
in which W. himself has the plural. 

119. Stand not, etc. That is, do not be particular about retiring in the 
order of your rank (as court etiquette required). Cf. the first line ofthi? 
scene. 

122. // will have blood, etc. The ist folio reads : 

"It will haue blood they say: 
Blood will haue blood:" 



/iCT III. SCENE IV. 221 

and this pointing is followed by the later folios. The arrangement in the 
text was proposed by Theo,, and adopted by Capell and Malone ; also 
by Coll., St., W., and Delius in our day. Most of the other editors follow 
Whalley and Johnson in reading : " It will have blood ; they say blood 
will have blood." Johnson observes : " Macbeth justly infers that the 
death of Duncan cannot go unpunished, ' It will have blood !' then after 
a short pause declares it as the general observation of mankind that 
murderers cannot escape." Capell thinks that the line is "injured in 
the solemnity of the movement" by the change in pointing, and that 
" the proverb's naked repeating, coming after words that insinuate it, has 
great effect." The question between the two readings is a very close 
one. 

123. Stones, etc. Mr. Paton {Notes and Queries, Nov. 6, 1869, cited by 
Furness) suggests that there may be an allusion " to the rocking stones, 
or 'stones of judgment,' by which it was thought the Druids tested the 
guilt or innocence of accused persons." There was one of these stones 
near Glamis Castle, and if S. visited Scotland (see p. 15) he probably 
saw it. 

Trees to speak may allude to the story of Polydorus in Virgil, yEn. iii. 
22-68 (Steevens). 

124. Angurs, etc. The folios have "Augures," retained by Rowe, 
Pope, Sr., and the Camb. and C. P. eds. Schmidt is doubtful whether the 
word means augurs or auguries. The C. P. ed. says : " In Florio's Ital. 
Diet. 161 1, the word 'augure' is given as the equivalent both for augu- 
rio, soothsaying, and auguro, a soothsayer. In the edition of 1598 'au- 
gure ' is only given as the translation of augurio, and it is in this sense 
that it is used here. The word occurs nowhere else in S. For 'augur' 
in our modern sense he uses ' augur er,' J. C. ii. i. 200 and ii. 2. 37 ; Cor. 
ii. I. I ; A. and C. iv. 12. 4 and v. 2. 337. We find ' augure ' used in the 
sense of 'augur' or 'augurer,' in Holland's Pliuy, viii. 28, which was 
published in 1601." 

Augur is not found in the plays of S., but it occurs in Sonn. 107. 6 : 
"And the sad augurs mock their own presage ;" and in The Phcxnix and 
the Turtle, 7 : " Augur of the fever's end." 

Delius remarks that S. sometimes uses and to connect words which 
are "subordinate, not co-ordinate," and that the meaning here is, "the 
relations understood by augurs." Moberly explains it, " augurs by the 
help of understood relations between omens and events." Rowe changed 
the text to " Augurs that understood ;" and Warb. and Johnson to "Au- 
gurs that understand ;" the latter explaining relations as " the connection 
of effects with causes." 

125. Magot-pies, etc. Nares explains magot-pie as "the bird now 
called, by abbreviation, a mag-pie.'''' Minsheu and Cotgrave both have 
maggatapie, and Middleton magot 0'' pie. See Wb. 

Chough, according to Schmidt, is the Corvus monedula. Cf Temp. ii. 
I. 266: "I myself could make A chough of as deep chat," and see note 
in our ed. p. 127. 

126. Seer ef St. See on kindest, ii. i. 24. Gr. 473. 
What='^'in what state, how far advanced " (Gr. 253). 



22 2 



NOTES. 



127. At odds. At variance, contesting; as in M. W. iii. i. 54; Rich. 
III. ii. I. 70, etc. 

The C. P. ed. remarks : " Lady Macbeth, worn out by the effort she 
has made to maintain her self-possession in the presence of her guests, 
answers briefly and mournfully to her husband's questions, adding no 
word of comment, much less of reproach. Thus the part was rendered 
by Miss Helen Faucit, one of the best of all modern interpreters of 
Shakespeare." Cf what Mrs. Jameson says, p. 22 above. 

128. Hoiv sayPst thoii, etc. " What do you think of this circumstance, 
that Macduff refuses to come," etc. (Mason). Schmidt compares T. G. 
of V. ii. 5. 43, and M. of V. i. 2. 58. On ^^;^y = refuse, cf Tejup. i. 2. 80, 
M. of V. iii. 3. 26, Rich II. ii. i. 204, etc. See also iv. i. 104 below. 

130. By the way. Indirectly, casually. 

131. A one. See Gr. 81. Theo. reads "a Thane," and W. "a man." 
In T. of A. V. I. 96 we have "There 's never a one." Walker says that 
the old poets ordinarily write an one, not a one ; but, as Schmidt notes, 
S. generally has a one. 

136. I am in blood, etc. For the repetition oi in, cf Cor. ii. i. 18. Gr. 
407. 

The C. P. ed. cites M. N. D. iii. 2. 47-49. Steevens remarks that 
Dryden borrows the figure in CEdipns, iv. i : 

" I have already pass'd 
The middle of the stream ; and to return 
Seems greater labour than to venture o'er." 

138. As go o''er. On the construction, see Gr. 384. 

140. Scamt'd. " Examined nicely " (Steevens). Cf Ham. iii. 3. 75, and 
Qth. iii. 3. 245. 

141. The season of all natures. "That which keeps them fresh" 
(Schmidt). 

142. Self abuse. Self-deception. See on ii. i. 50. 

143. The initiate fear. The fear of a novice, or of one who has not 
had " hard use " (hardening experience) in crime. 

144. In deed. The folios have "indeed." The correction is due to 
Theo. 

Scene V. — The C. P. editors believe that "if this scene had occurred 
in a drama not attributed to Shakespeare, no one would have discovered 
in it any trace of Shakespeare's manner." Fleay also rejects it. See p. 
12 above. It is almost certainly an interpolation. 

S. has been criticised for introducing the classical Hecate in connec- 
tion with modern witches ; but Scot [Discovery of Witchcraft) mentions it 
as the common opinion of all writers that witches were supposed to have 
nightly " meetings with Herodias and the Pagan gods," and that '' in the 
night-times they ride abroad with Diana, the goddess of the Pagans," 
etc. Hecate is only another name for Diana. Cf Virgil, ^n. iv. 51 1. * 
" Tergeminamque Hecaten, tria virginis ora Dianae." 

I. Hecate. For the pronunciation, see on ii. i. 52. It is a trisyllable 
in I Hen. VI. iii. 2. 64. Milton makes it a dissyllable in Comus, 135, but 



ACT III. SCENE V. 



223 



a trisyllable in Comus, 535, the only other instance in which he uses the 
word. 

Angerly. Angrily. See Gr, 447, and cf. K. John, iv. i. 82. 

7. Close. Secret. Cf. R. and j. i. i. 155 ; Cynib. iii. 5. 86, etc. 

13. Loves. As the C. P. ed. remarks, there is no hint elsewhere in 
the play of Macbeth's pretending love to the witches. Halliwell is 
"inclined to think that loves is an error for lives f and St. conjectures 
" loves evil for," which makes the measure the same as that of the other 
line in the couplet. 

15. Acheron. "The witches are poetically made to give this name to 
some foul tarn or gloomy pool in the neighbourhood of Macbeth's castle, 
where they habitually assemble" (Clarke). 

23. The corner of the moon. Cf. Milton, Comus, 1016 : 

" And from thence can soar as soon 
To the corners of the moon." 

24. Profourid. " Having dee.p or hidden qualities " (Johnson). The 
C. P. ed. explains it, "deep, and therefore ready to fall." Steevens sug- 
gests that the vaporous drop is " meant for the same as the virus lunare 
of the ancients, being a foam which the moon was supposed to shed on 
particular herbs or other objects, when strongly solicited by enchant- 
ment." Lucan mentions it, Pharsalia, vi. 666 : 

"Et virus large kmare ministrat." 

26. Sleights. Artifices. S. uses the word only here and in 3 Hen. VI. 
iv. 2. 20. 

27. Artificial. Produced by art, or made visible by art. The word 
means "artful " m M. N. D. iii. 2. 203 : "like two artificial gods." 

29. Confusion. Destruction. See on ii. 3. 47. 

31. ''Bove. See Gr. 460. 

32. Security. Carelessness. Cf. Rich. II. iii. 2. 34, and see note in 
our ed. p. 189. 

Moberly quotes Webster, Duchess of Malfi, v. 2 : 

"Security some men call the suburbs of hell, 
Only a dead wall between." 

33. The folio has the stage direction, " Si}ig witJiin. Come away, cofue 
away, <S^'(r." It undoubtedly refers to the following " Song " in The Witch 
of Middleton : 

" Song above. 

Come away, come away, 

Hecate, Hecate, come away! 
Hec. I come, I come, I come, I come, 

With all the speed I may. 

With all the speed I may. 
Where 's Stadlin? 
[Voice above ■~\ Here. 
Hec. Where 's Puckle? 
\_Voice above. '[ Here; 

And Hoppo too, and Hellwain too ; 

We lack but you, we lack but you ; 

Come away, make up the count. 
Hec. I will but 'noint, and then I mount. 

\_A Spirit like a cat descends. 



2 24 NOTES. 

\.Voice above.l There 's one comes down to fetch his dues. 
A kiss, a coll, a sip of blood ; 
And why thou stay'st so long 

I muse, I muse, 
Since the air 's so sweet and good. 

Hec. O, art thou come? 

What news, what news? 

Spirit. All goes still to our delight : 

Either come, or else 

Refuse, refuse. 

Hec. Now I 'm furnish' d for the flight. 

Fire. Hark, hark, the cat sings a brave treble in her own language 

Hec. \goi}ig tip.\ Now I go, now I fly, 
Malkin my sweet spirit and I. 
O what a dainty pleasure 't is 
To ride in the air 
When the moon shines fair, 
And sing and dance, and toy and kiss ! 
Over woods, high rocks, and mountains, 
Over seas, our mistress' fountains. 
Over steep* towers and turrets. 
We fly by night, 'mongst troops of spirits: 
No ring of bells to our ears sounds. 
No howls of wolves, no yelps of hounds ; 
No, not the noise of water's breach. 
Or cannon's throat our height can reach. 

\_Voices above.^ No ring of bells," etc. 

In Davenant's version of Macbeth, this passage is inserted, with some 
variations, and until the MS. of 71ie Witch was discovered it was sup- 
posed to be his composition. Dyce remarks: "It is so highly fanciful, 
and comes in so happily where Davenant has placed it, that one is al- 
most tempted to believe it was written by Shakespeare, and had been 
omitted in the printed copies of his play." 

The C. P. ed. suggests that " from what Hecate says, ' Hark, I am call- 
ed,' it is probable that she took no part in the song, which perhaps con- 
sisted only of the two first lines of the passage from Middleton." 

Scene VI. — Enter Lennox and another Lord. As there seems to be 
no reason for introducing a nameless character here, Johnson conjectured 
that the original copy had ^^ Leitnox and An.,'''' meant for "Lennox and 
Anvils, ''' but mistaken by the transcriber. 

Flathe remarks : " It is not without significance that in this scene 
there is frequent mention of most pious men and holy angels. Such 
mention is meant to remind us that there is a moral force always present 
in the world, ready to come forth victorious in its time and place." 

1. Have bnt hit your thoughts. " Were only intended to stir your 
thoughts" (Moberly) ; or, more likely, ////— agreed with. 

2. 07ily. On the position of the word, see Gr. 420. 

3. Borne. Managed, conducted. Cf. line 17 below; also 2 Hen. IV. 
iv. 4. 88 ; Cor. v. 3. 4, etc. 

* Davenant gives "Over steeples, towers, and turrets," which is probably the true 
reading. In another part of the play, Hecate says " In moonlight nights, on steeple- 
tops,' ' etc 



ACT III. SCENE VL 



225 



4. Marry. Probably a corruption of Mary, and originally a mode of 
swearing by the Virgin. It is often, as here, equivalent to a monosyllable. 
Gr. 463. On ^~by, see Gr. 170. 

8. Who camiot zvant, etc. A much controverted passage. The sense, 
as Malone pointed out, seems to require cajt instead of cannot. Coll. ex- 
plains it, " Who cannot but think," etc. Delius (trans, by Furness) says: 
" As S. sometimes, in order to express a single negative, multiplies the 
negatives not, nor, never, etc., so on the other hand he sometimes addg 
them, as in this case, to negative verbs or particles without altering the 
sense. Thus vt^. W. T. iii. 2. 55 : 

"That any of these bolder vices wanted 
Less impudence ;' ' 

and in Cymb. i. 4. 23 : 'a beggar without less quality,' the negative lesi 
merely strengthens the negative already included in wanted and without.''' 
If we do not adopt this explanation (cf. A. V. L. p. 156, note on 12), 
we must consider it one of the accidental " confusions of construction " 
which are so common in S. Cf. Gr. 409-416. 

White, who in his Shakespeare'' s Scholar (p. 403) suggested making the 
sentence declarative instead of interrogative, and joining it to the pre- 
ceding one (" Men must not walk too late who cannot help thinking," 
etc.), afterwards in his ed. of S. returned to the original reading, a more 
careful consideration of the passage having led him " unwillingly " to the 
belief that Malone may have been right, and that " the disagreement be- 
tween the words and the thought is due to a confusion of thought which 
S. may have sometimes shared with inferior intellects." 

Monstrotcs (which Capell printed " monsterous ") is metrically a tri- 
syllable. Gr. 477. 

ID. Fact. Delius points out that S. uses this word only in a bad sense 
— an evil deed ; never in the sense of reality as opposed to fiction. The 
only meaning Schmidt gives for the word is "evil deed, crime." It oc- 
curs in S. fourteen times : R. of L. 239, 349 ; M. for M. iv. 2. 141, v. i. 
439 ; A. W. iii. 7. 47 ; W. T. iii. 2. 86 ; i Hen. VI. iv. i. 30 ; 2 Hen. VI. 
i. 3. 176, ii. I. 173 ; T. A. iv. i. 39 ; T. of A. iii. 5. 16 ; Cy?nb. iii. 2. 17 ; Per. 
iv. 3. 12, and the present passage. If it is a mere coincidence that the 
word always has this bad sense, it is curious enough to be worth not- 
ing. 

13. Thralls. Slaves, bondmen. S. uses the noun six times, and al- 
ways in this sense except in P. P. 266, where it means slavery. Cf. 
I Hen. VI. i. 2. 117, ii. 3. 36 ; Rich. III. iv. I. 46 ; and Sojm. 154. 12. 

19. An V. The folios, as elsewhere, have " And 't." See Gr. loi, 102, 
103. 

21. From. In consequence of, on account of. Cf. Hen. VIII. 1. i. i^2\< 
Ham. ii. 2. 580, etc. (Schmidt). 

Broad. Free, unrestrained. Cf Ham. iii. 4. 2 : " his pranks have been 
too broad to bear with ;" T. of A. iii. 4. 64 : " Who can speak broader 
than he that has no house to put his head in ? Such may rail against 
great buildings." See also iii. 4. 23 above. 

On ''cause, see Gr. 460. 

P 



226 NOTES. 

Fair d His presence. Failed to be present. Cf. iii. i. 27 : " Fail not our 
feast ;" Lear, ii. 4. 144 : " Would fail her obligation," etc. 

24. Bestows himself. See on iii. i. 29. 

25. Tyrant. Perhaps = usurper, like the Greek rvpavvog (Schmidt)- 
Cf. A. V. L. ii. I. 61 : 

" Swearing that we 
Are mere usurpers, tyrants, and what 's worse;" 

and 3 Hen. VI. iii. 3. 69 : 

" For how can tyrants safely govern home, 
Unless abroad they purchase great alliance? 
To prove him tyrant this reason may sufl&ce, 
That Henry liveth still." 

Holds = withholds. 

27. The most pious Edzvard. Edward the Confessor, On of = hj, cf. 
line 4 above. Gr. 170. 

30. On the measure, see Gr. 498; and on zipon = " for the purpose of," 
Gr. 191. Cf 0th. i. I. 100. 

35. F7'ee. Schmidt makes it here = " remove, do away," and compares 
Cymb. iii. 6. 80 : " Would I could free 't !" Malone made the plausible 
suggestion that the line originally stood, " Our feasts and banquets free 
fromx bloody knives." 

36. Free honours. "Either honours /r^^/^ bestowed, not purchased by 
crimes ; or honours without slavery, without dread of a tyrant " (Johnson). 
The C. P. ed. explains it : " Honours such as freemen receive from a law- 
ful king." 

38. Exasperate. Cf T. and C. v. i. 34 : " Why art thou then exasper- 
ate ?" So "consecrate" {T. A.\. i. 14; M. N. D. v. i. 422), "create" 
{M. N. D.v. \. \\2), and sundry other words directly derived from Latin 
perfect participles. See Gr. 342. Cf Milton, P. L. iii. 6 : " Bright efflu- 
ence of bright essence increate ;" Id. iii. 208 : " But to destruction 
sacred and devote," etc. Examples might be added from the poets of 
our own time. 

41. Cloudy. Frowning. Delius explains it as " foreboding, ominous ;" 
the C. P. ed., " gloomy, sullen." Cf 2 Hen. VI. iii. i. 155 : " cloudy brow." 
Sometimes it means " under a cloud," sorrowing ; as in Rich. III. ii. 2. 
112: "You cloudy princes and heart-sorrowing peers;" R.of L. 1084 : 
" But cloudy Lucrece shames herself to see," etc. On me, see Gr. 220. 

42. As who should say. See Gr. 257. Cf M. of V. i. 2. 45, Rich. II 
V. 4. 8, etc. 

48, 49. Our suffering country, etc. That is, our country suffering under, 
etc. Gr. 4190;. Cf Hen. VIII. iii. i. 134 : " a constant woman to her 
husband; Rich. II. iii. i. 9 : "A happy gentleman in blood and linea- 
ments," etc. See also v. 8. 7 below : 

"thou bloodier villain 
Than terms can give thee out." 



ACT IV, SCENE I. 



227 



1 / 

Oz 




OAK IN BIRNAM WOOD. 



ACT IV. 

Scene I. — The C. P. editors remark : " The rich vocabulary, prodigal 
fancy, and terse diction displayed in iv. i. 1-38, show the hand of a mas- 
ter, and make us hesitate in ascribing the passage to any one but the 
master himself. There is, however, a conspicuous falling -off in lines 
39-47, after the entrance of Hecate." 

Fleay rejects 39-44 and 94-100 ("That will never be. . . . mortal cus- 
tom "). The Hecate part is probably spurious, as in iii, 5 above. 

1. Brinded. Meaning the same as brindled^ which (see Wb.) is a 
" diminutive " of it. S. uses it only here. Milton has it twice {P. L. vii. 
466 ; Conius, 443), in both cases applied to the lion. 

2. Thrice and once. Theo. wished to read " Twice and once ;" because, 
" as Virgil has remarked, ' Numero Deus impare gaudet,' and three and 
nine are the numbers used in all enchantments." Many editors point it 
thus, *' Thrice ; and once." 

Hedge-pig. Krauth (quoted by Furness) remarks : " The urchin, or 



228 NOTES. 

hedge -hog, is nocturnal in its habits, weird in its movements; plants 
wither where it works, for it cuts off their roots. Fairies of one class 
were supposed to assume its form. Urchin came to Vi\t2iW /(dry without 
reference to the hedge -hog shape; hence, because fairies are little and 
mischievous, it came to be applied to a child." 

3. Harpier. Some eds. have " Harper," others "Harpy." It maybe 
a corruption of the latter word. 

'' T is time, etc. This is not what " Harpier cries," as some have un- 
derstood it. Cf the Hecate of Middleton : 

^^ Hecate. Heard you the owle yet? 
Stadlin. Briefely in the copps. 
Hecate. 'T is high time for us then." 

Cries = " gives them the signal " (Steevens). 

5. In the poisoned entrails throzv. Guizot translates the line " Jetons 
dans ses entrailles empoisonnees," and adds the note: " vShakespeare 
met souvent ainsi dans la bouche de ses sorcieres des phrases inter- 
rompues, auxquelles elles semblent.attacher un sens complet." 

6. Cold is a dissyllable (Gr. 484). There is a shiver in the prolongation 
of the word. Cf. 3 Hen. VI. iv. 3. 14 : " While he himself keeps in the 
cold field." Many eds. read "the cold ;" some, "coldest." 

8. Venom. Cf 3 Hen. VI. ii. 2. 138 : " venom toads ;" A. Y. L. ii. i. 13 : 
" the toad, ugly and venomous ;" Rich. III. i. 2. 148 : " Never hung poison 
on a fouler toad ;" and many other passages in which the same idea oc- 
curs. Hunter says : " There is a paper by Dr. Davy in the Philosophical 
Transactions of 1826, in which it is shown that the toad is venomous, 
and moreover that 'sweltered venom' is peculiarly proper, the poison 
lying diffused over the body immediately under the skin. This is the 
second instance in this play of Shakespeare's minute exactness in his 
natural history." Whether Dr. Davy, in his dissection of the toad, 
found also the " precious jewel in his head," is not stated. 

16. Blind-worjn. The slow- worm. Cf M. N. D. ii. 2. ii : "Newts 
and blind-worms." In T. of A. iv. 3. 182, it is called the "eyeless ven- 
om'd worm." Steevens cites Drayton, Noah's Flood, 481 : "The small- 
eyed slow-worm held of many blind ;" and the C. P. ed. quotes the Suf- 
folk proverb : 

" If the viper could hear and the slow-worm could see, 
Then England from serpents would never be free." 

17. Howlefs. The old spelling, altered in some eds. to " owlet's.'^ 
Cf. Holland's Pliny, x. 17 : "Of Owles, or Howlets." 

22. Mummy. Cf 0th. iii. 4. 74 ; 

" there 's magic in the web of it : 

The worms were hallow' d that did breed the silk; 
And it was dyed in mummy which the skilful 
Conserv'd of maidens' hearts." 

The C. P. ed. remarks that mummy was used as a medicine both long 
before and long after the time of S. Sir Thomas Browne tells us that 
Francis I. always carried mummy with him as a panacea against all dis- 
orders. He adds . " The common opinion of the virtues of mummy bred 



ACT IV. SCENE Z 



229 



great consumption thereof, and princes and great men contended for this 
strange panacea, wherein Jews dealt largely, manufacturing mummies 
from dead carcases, and giving them the names of kings, while specifics 
were compounded from crosses and gibbet leavings." The same author, 
in his Hydriotaphia (ch. v.), says : " The Egyptian mummies which Cam- 
byses spared, avarice now consumeth. Mummy is become merchandize ; 
Mizraim cures wounds, and Pharaoh is sold for balsams." Cf. Webster, 
The White Devil, i. i : 

" Your followers 

Have swallowed you like mummia, and, being sick 

With such unnatural and horrid physic, 

Vomit you up i' the kennel." 

Maw and gulf . On maw, cf. iii. 4. 73 above. 6"?/^= gullet. Schmidt 
compares R. of L. 557, and Cor. i. i. loi. 

24. Eaviii'd. Ravenous; like ravin in A. W. iii. 2. 129: "the ravin 
lion." See on ii. 4. 28. Steevens quotes P. Fletcher, Locusts, iii. 18: 
" his raven'd prey." 

25. Digg'd. The only form used by S. for the past tense and participle 
of dig. Cf. Rich. II. iii. 3. 169 ; T. A.m. i. 135, etc. The same is true of 
Milton (see P. L. i. 690, vi. 516, etc.) and of the A. V. [Gen. xlix. 6, 1. 5^ 
Exod. vii. 24, etc.). 

27. Yew. This tree was reckaned poisonous (Douce). 

28. Sliver' d. This word, which is common in this country (at least in 
New England), must be less familiar in England, as D. and others think 
it necessary to explain it. 

Eclipse. An unlucky time. Cf. Sonn. 107. 5 : 

"The mortal moon hath her eclipse endur'd. 
And the sad augurs mock their own presage." 

See also Milton, Lycidas, loi : 

"It was that fatal and perfidious bark, 
Built in the eclipse, and rigg'd with curses dark." 

32. Slab. Viscous, glutinous. Slabby has the same meaning. Cf. 
Selden (quoted by Wb.) : "you must drink of a slabby stuff." 

33. Chaudron. Entrails. Steevens found in a cookery book, printed 
in 1597, a receipt " to make a pudding of a calf's chaldron." Cf. Decker 
H. W. : "calves' chauldrons and chitterlings." At the coronation feast 
of Elizabeth of York, queen of Henry VII., one of the dishes was "a 
swan with chaudron," meaning sauce made with its entrails. 

37. Baboon's. Accented here on the first syllable, but on the second 
in T. of A. i. i. 260 : " Into baboon and monkey," etc. Cf. Gr. 490. 

38. The stage direction in the folios is ^^ Enter Hecat, and the other 
three Witches f but there is no good reason for supposing that there arc 
any other witches in the scene than those already on the stage. Steevens 
suggested that others might be brought in to join in the coming dance. 
The Camb. ed. reads " Enter Hecate to the other three Witches." 

43. The stage direction is from the ist folio. The "Song" is found 
in The Witch of Middleton, where it begins thus : 

" Black spirits and white, red spirits and gray, 
Mingle, mingle, mingle, you that mingle may!'* 



230 



NOTES. 



Davenant introduced this much of it into his version, but did not change 
" Red " to " Blue," as the C. P. ed. states. That change was made by 
Rowe, who inserted the lines here in Macbeth, and was followed by Pope 
and other editors until Steevens restored "Red" in 1785. 

44. Pricking, etc. "It is a very ancient superstition that all sudden 
pains of the body, which could not naturally be accounted for, were pre- 
sages of somewhat that was shortly to happen. Hence Upton has ex- 
plained a passage in the Miles Gioriostis of Plautus : ' Timeo quod rerum 
gesserim hie, ita dorstis totus prurif " (Steevens). 

50. Conju7'e. " Used by S. always with the accent on the first syllable, 
except in 7?. and J. ii. I. 26, and 0th. i. 3. 105 " (C. P. ed.). Add Ham. 
V. I. 279 : " Conjures the wandering stars, and makes them stand." 

53. Yesty. Foamy. Cf. Ham. v. 2. 198, where it is used figuratively 
= light, frivolous (Schmidt). 

55. Bladed. In the blade. Cf. M. N. D. i. i. 211 : "the bladed 
grass." As corn in the blade is not liable to be "lodged," Coll. follows 
his MS. corrector, who has "bleaded," a provincial word = ripe, ready 
for the sickle. On lodg'd ( = thrown down, laid), cf. Rich. II. iii. 3. 162. 

57. Slope. S. has the word nowhere else, either as verb or noun. Its 
transitive use here is peculiar. The Coll. MS. substitutes " stoop," which 
had been suggested by Capell. 

59. Germens. Germs, seeds. The folios have "germaine" or "ger- 
main." Pope gave "germains," which he explained as "relations, or 
kindred elements." Germens (spelled by him "germins," as by most 
editors) was first suggested by Theo. Ci. lear, iii. 2. 8: "Crack nat- 
ure's moulds, all germens spill at once" ("germaines" or "germains" 
in the early eds.). 

60. Sicken. Be surfeited. Cf. T. N. i. i. 3. 

Masters. The pointing of the folio. Pope gave "masters?" which 
is followed by many modern editors, though the interrogation point 
should not be used with indirect questions. Some eds. adopt Capell's 
" masters' V 

65. Farrow. A litter of pigs. Steevens cites the law of Kenneth II., 
of Scotland, given by Holinshed : " If a sowe eate hir pigges, let hyr 
be stoned to death and buried." 

On szveaten, see Gr. 344. 

68. As Upton remarks, the armed head represents symbolically Mac- 
beth's head cut off and brought to Malcolm by Macduff (v. 8. 53). The 
bloody child is Macduff (v. 8. 15). The child crowned, with a tree in his 
hand, is the royal Malcolm (v. 4. 4). 

78. Had I three ears, etc. H. compares the expression still in use, " I 
listened with all the ears I had." Whately {Rhetoric, iv. 2. 2), in illus- 
trating the imperfection of any system of marks or signs to indicate 
tones in elocution, says of this passage: "No one would dispute that 
the stress is to be laid on the word tJiree, and thus much might be in- 
dicated to the reader's eye ; but if he had nothing "else to trust to, he 
might chance to deliver the passage in such a manner as to be utterly 
absurd; for it is possible to pronounce the emphatic word three in such 
a tone as to indicate that ' since he has but two ears he cannot hear.' " 



ACT IV. SCENE A 



231 



80. For none^ etc. Simrock {Die Quellen des Shakespeare, quoted by 
Furness) remarks : " This prediction we can trace in * Prhice Wladimir 
and his Table-round'' (Leipzig, 1819), where the same prophecy is made 
over the cradle of the hero Tugarin, the son of a snake. In the Shah' 
ndnia of Firdausi, Rustum* was born as was Macduff. And in many 
other instances heroes and demi-gods were similarly ushered into the 
world, and it always implied power and heroic strength. Such an one 
was Wolsung, Sigurd's ancestor. It was, however, not the case with the 
unborn Burkart, Burchardus ingenitus, whose skin remained always so 
tender that every gnat brought blood, and his tutor was therefore obliged 
to abolish the rod utterly, and after all he grew up a learned and virtu- 
ous man." 

84. And take a bond of fate. The C. P. ed. remarks : " Macbeth has 
just been assured that Macduff, whom he supposes to be comprised 
among tjiose ' of woman born,' shall not harm him. By slaying Macduff 
he will bind fate to perform the promise, he will put it out of fate's power 
to break the promise, 'referring,' says Mr. Rushton {Shakespeare a Law- 
yer, p. 20), 'not to a single, but to a conditional bond, under or by virtue 
of which, when forfeited, double the principal sum was recoverable.' In 
iii. 2. 49 the same figure is used with a different application." 

85. Fale-heai'ted fear. See on ii. 2. 65. 

88. The ronnd, etc. On round, cf i. 5. 26 ; and on top (which, as Schmidt 
points out, is used metaphorically, and not in the prosaic literal sense 
of " the ornament that rises above " the crown, as Johnson explains it), 
Temp. iii. i. 38 : "the top of admiration ;" 2 Hen. VI. i. 2. 49 : "the top 
of honour ;" M.for M, ii. 2. 76 ; " the top of judgment," etc. 

92. Simrock (see on line 80 above) remarks that the incident of the 
moving forest is found in various myths : " It corresponds closely to the 
story of King Griinewald, which Professor Schwarz has preserved in his 
Hessian Notabilia derived from oral tradition. *A King had an only 
daughter, who possessed wondrous gifts. Now, once upon a time there 
came his enemy, a King named Griinewald, and besieged him in his 
castle, and, as the siege lasted long, the daughter kept continually en- 
couraging her father in the castle. This lasted till May-day. Then all 
of a sudden the daughter saw the hostile army approach with green 
boughs : then fear and anguish fell on her,^r she knew that all was lost^ 
and said to her father — 

" Father, you must yield, or die, 
I see the green-wood drawing nigh." ' 

See Grimm's German Popn/ar Tales, i. 148. Here the correspondence 
to the legend of Macbeth is not to be mistaken. The daughter plays 
the same part here as the witches there. She knows, by means of her 
miraculous gifts, that her father cannot be conquered till the green- 
wood moves upon them ; but, as she considers this impossible, she 
incites him to confidence ; but when the supposed impossible incident 
actually comes to pass, she counsels him to surrender. On the other 

* The " Hercules of Persia," as he is termed by Mr Fitzgerald in his exquisite ren 
dering of the Rubdiydt of Omar Khayyam (Furness). 



232 



NOTES. 



hand, no prophecy appears to have anticipated the cunning of Fred© 
gunda, who hung bells on her horses, and ordered each of her warriors 
to take a bough in his hand, and thus to march against the enemy ; 
whereby the sentinels of the hostile camp were deceived, believing their 
horses were browsing in the neighbouring forest, until the Franks let 
their boughs fall, and the forest stood leafless, but thick with the shafts 
of glancing spears. (See Grimm's German Popular Tales ^ ii. 91.) It 
was merely a military stratagem ; just as Malcolm, when he commanded 
his soldiers, on their forward march, to conceal themselves with boughs, 
had no other end in view, for he knew not what had been prophesied to 
Macbeth, The following passage from Joh. Weyer, De Prcestigiisy Frank- 
furt, 15865 p. 329, is noteworthy: * Whoever wishes to give himself the 
appearance of having a thousand men or horse round him, let him have 
a year-old willow bough cut off at a single stroke, with certain conjura- 
tions, repetition of barbarous words, and rude characters.' A single man 
might really find some difficulty in giving himself, by the use of this boast- 
ed charm, the appearance of a whole army ; but the inventor evidently 
founded his pretension upon a popular legend, according to which a bold 
army had, by this artifice, concealed its weakness from an enemy superior 
in numbers. According to Holinshed, however, Malcolm's army was 
superior in number to that of Macbeth, and the concealment with the 
boughs was only made use of in order that, when they were thrown 
away, sudden vision of the superiority of numbers might create more 
terror. In my Mamial of German Mythology, p, 557, it is shown that the 
legend of the moving forest originated in the German religious custom 
of May-festivals, or Summer-welcomings, and that 'King Griinewald' is 
originally a Winter-giant, whose dominion ceases when the May-feast 
begins and the green-wood draws nigh. This is the mythical basis of 
the Macbeth legend." 

Halliwell says : "The incident of cutting down the branches of trees 
is related in the old romance life of Alexander the Great, thus translated 
in the Thornton MS., in the library of Lincoln Cathedral : ' In the mene 
tyme, Kyng Alexander remowed his oste, and drew nere the cite of Susis, 
in the whilke Darius was lengand the same tyme, so that he mygte 
see alle the heghe hillez that ware abowune the citee. Than Alexan- 
der commanded alle his mene that ilkane of thame suld cutte downe a 
brawnche of a tree, and bere thame furth with thame, and dryfe bifore 
thame alle manere of bestez that thay mygte fynde in the way ; and, 
when the Percyenes saw thame fra the heghe hillez, thay wondred thame 
gretly.' " 

93. Birnam "wood, etc. The village of Birnam is a modern suburb of 
the beautiful town of Dunkeld, which is about sixteen miles from Perth 
by road or railway. Birnam Hill (1580 feet high) rises in front of the 
village, at present almost bare of trees, though an attempt is being made 
to clothe it again with fir saplings taken from the original *' Birnam 
Wood." In the rear of the hotel are two trees, an. oak (see cut on p. 
227) and a plane, which are believed to be a remnant of this famous 
forest. The Dunsinane hills, twelve miles distant, are visible from tV-p 
northern side of Birnam Hill, which, as a recent writer remarks, " is pre- 



ACT IV. SCENE /. 233 

cisely the point where a general, in full march towards Dunsinane, would 
be likely to pause to survey the plain which he must cross, and from this 
spot would the leafy screen devised by Malcolm become necessary to 
conceal the number of the advancing army." 

Dunsinatie is here accented on the second syllable ; but elsewhere in 
the play on the last syllable, or the first and last. The C. P. ed. says 
that the former is the local pronunciation, and that the word is now spelt 
"Dunsinnan." The statement in regard to the pronunciation is con- 
firmed by Chambers'' s Encyclopcedia (though Lippincott's Gazetteer gives 
^he other accent), but the spelling is "Dunsinnane" in both these au- 
thorities. In Black's Picturesque Guide to Scotland (Edinburgh, 1875), 
3,s in Murrav's, it is "Dunsinane." 

95. Impress. Press (as m Rich. II. iii. 2. 58, etc.), force into his ser- 
vice. Cf. I Hen. IV. i. i. 21, etc. 

96. Bodements. Prophecies. Used by S. only here and in T. and C, 
V. 3. 80. 

97. Rebellion'' s head. The folio has " Rebellious dead," which is retain- 
ed by Davenant, Rowe, Pope, and Halliwell. The last defends it on the 
ground that Macbeth, confiding in the prophecy that none of woman 
born could harm him, would fear nothing but the reappearance of the 
dead, as in the case of Banquo's ghost ; and this fear would be relieved 
by the second prophecy. But the emendation in the text (due to Theo.) 
yields a simpler sense, and is adopted by most of the modern editors. 
Some prefer " Rebellious head." 

98. Our high - plac''d Macbeth. This seems strange in Macbeth's 
mouth, and we have seen no satisfactory explanation of it. Moberly 
says : " He who is so called by his subjects. So a Greek master called 
himself avroc, in addressing his slaves, and the driver of Italian galley- 
slaves was called the * nostromo.' " Walker suggested " Your " for 
" Our," which does not help the case much. Fleay remarks : " ' Our 
high-plac'd Macbeth' cannot be said by Macbeth himself; it must be 
part of a speech of a witch. ' Sweet bodements !' looks also like Middfe- 
ton, and the whole bit is, in my opinion, a fragment of Hecate's inserted 
by him. ' Rebellious dead' seems to me an allusion to Banquo's ghost, 
misplaced by Middleton." 

99. Lease of naticre. " That is^ lease for term of life " (Rushton). 
106. Noise. Music (Schmidt). Cf. Temp. iii. 2. 144: 

"the isle is full of noises, 
Sounds and sweet airs, that give delight and hurt not." 

See also Cor. iii. i. 95 ; Ham. v. 2. 360, etc. Cf. too Spenser, F, Q. L 12, 
59 : " During the which there was a heavenly noise ;" Milton, Hymn on 
Nativ. 97: "the stringed noise;" Ode at a Solemn Musick, 18: "that 
nelodious noise ;" and Coleridge, Ancient Mariner : 

" It ceased ; yet still the sails made on 
A pleasant noise till noon — 
A noise like of a hidden brook 
In the leafy month of June, 
That to the sleeping woods all night 
Singeth a, quiet tune." 



234 NOTES. 

The word was also used in the sense of a company of musicians : as in 
2 Hen. IV. ii.4. 13. 

III. The stage direction in the folio reads : '■'■ A shew of eight Kings, 
and BaJiquo last, with a glasse in his hand ;''' but this is inconsistent with 
what Macbeth says in line 119. "A show, in theatrical language, is a 
procession, or pantomime in which the actors remained silent, hence 
usually called \a dumb show ' " (Delius), 

113. Hair. Johnson substituted "air," which D. thinks receives some 
support from W. T. v. i. 127. Monck Mason says : "It means that the 
hair of both was of the same colour, which is a natural feature more 
likely to mark a family likeness than the air^ which depends upon habit, 
and a dancing-master," 

116. Start, eyes ! " Start from your sockets, so that I may be spared 
the horror of the vision " (C. P. ed.). 

117. The crack of doom. The "burst of sound" (Schmidt) at the day 
of doom ; or the thunder announcing that day (C. P. ed.). Cf. T. A. ii. 
I. 3 : "thunder's crack;" and Temp. i. 2. 203 : "cracks of sulphurous 
roaring." See also on i. 2. 37 above. 

121. Twofold balls. Probably referring to the double coronation of 
James, at Scone and Westminster (C. P. ed.). See Introduction, p. 9. 

123. Blood-bolter'' d. Malone says that boltered is a provincial term in 
Warwickshire. "When a horse, sheep, or other animal, perspires much, 
and any of the hair, or wool . . . becomes matted in tufts with grime and 
sweat, he is said to be ' boltered ;' and whenever the blood issues out 
and coagulates, forming the locks into hard clotted bunches, the beast is 
said to be 'blood-boltered.' " Banquo, therefore, both here and at the 
banquet, ought to be represented with his hair clotted with blood. C£ 
what the murderer says, iii. 4. 27 : 

" Safe in a ditch he bides^ 
With twenty trenched gashes on his head ; 
The least a death to nature ;" 

and the exclamation of Macbeth himself, iii. 4. 50 : 

" Thou canst not say I did it ; never shake 
Thy gory locks at me." 

The word, with slight difference of spelling, is used by Holland, himself 
living at Coventry, in his translation o( Pliny, xii. 17, speaking of a goat's 
beard : " Now by reason of dust getting among, it baltereth and clutteretb 
into knobs and bals." Halliwell states that, according to Sharp's MS. 
Warwickshire Glossary, snow is said to baiter together, and Batchelor 
{Orthoepical Analysis, 1 809) says that " hasty pudding is said to be bol- 
tered \v\\&x\ much of the flower remains in lumps." 

127. Sprights. This is the spelling of the folio, and is preferred b} 
some editors when, as here, the word does not refer to apparitions. 
Cf. V. and A. 181 : "And now Adonis, with a lazy spright ;" R. of L, 
121 : "with heavy spright," etc. Even when the word is spelled "spir- 
its" in the early eds. it is generally a monosyllable. 

130. Antic. The folio has " Antique " here. We find " antick " and 
"antique" (the accent always on the first syllable) used promiscuously 



1 



ACT IV. SCENE IT. 235 

In the early eds. without any regard to the meaning. For the relation of 
the various meanings, see Wb. 

Round. Stcevens suggests that the idea (as well as that in i. 3. 32) may 
have been adopted from Churchyard'' s Dreame, 1593 : 

*' All hand in hand they traced on 
A tricksie ancient round; 
And soone as shadowes were they gone, 
And might no more be found." 

144. Atiticipaf St. Dost prevent. Cf. ^c««. 118. 9 : " to anticipate Th 
ills that were not," etc. 

145. Flighty. Fleeting. Used by S. nowhere else. The C. P. ed, 
cites, for the general sense, A. W. v. 3. 40 : 

*' For we are old, and on our quick' st decrees 
The inaudible and noiseless foot of Time 
Steals ere we can effect them." 

On dertooky see Gr. 343. 

147. Firstlings. " First produce or offspring" (Schmidt). Cf . T. and 
C. prol. 27 : "The vaunt and firstlings of those broils." 

150. The castle of Macduff. Tradition makes this Dunnemarle Castle 
near Culross, on the Forth. 

152. All tmfortunate souls, etc. All who are so unlucky as to be of 
his lineage. 

153. Trace. Follow. Cf Hen. VIII. iii. 2. 45 : *' Now all my joy 
Trace the conjunction !" See also i Hen. IV. iii. i. 47. 

155. Sights. The Coll. MS. has "Flights," which Sr. adopts. W. 
reads " sprights," but no change seems called for. 

Scene II. — 4. Traitors. The treason is the desertion of his family. 

7. Titles. Claims, rights (Schmidt). 

9. Touch. Sensibility (Johnson), or feeling. Cf. T. G. of V. ii. 7. 18; 
A. W.'x.Ty. 122 ; A. and C. i. 2. 187, etc. 

The poor wren, etc. Harting [Ornithology of S. p. 143) remarks that 
the wren is not the smallest of birds, that it is doubtful whether it would 
fight against a bird of prey in defence of its young, and that the owl will 
not take young birds from the nest. See on iv. 1.8 above. 

12. All is the fear. The fear is all that can have influenced him. 

15. For. As regards (Gr. 149). Cf. Rich. II. v. 3. 137 : " But for our 
trusty brother-in-law," etc. 

17. The fits <?' the season. The caprices or uncertainties of the time, 
Cf Cor. iii. 2. 33. 

18. When we are traitors, etc. That is, are counted traitors, but are 
not conscious of being such. 

19. When we hold rumour, etc. When we believe rumours because of 
our fears, yet know not why we should fear, being conscious of no fault. 
The C. P. ed. remarks : " It is uncertain whether this very difficult ex- 
pression means ' when we interpret rumour in accordance with our fear,' 
or ' when our reputation is derived from actions which our fear dictates^ 
as Lady Macduff has said in lines 3, 4 : 



236 NOTES. 

' When our actions do not, 
Our fears do make us traitors.' 

Others would give to 'hold' the sense of 'receive,' 'believe.' A some- 
what similar passage is found in JC. JoJui^ iv. 2. 145 : 

' I find the people strangely fantasied ; 
Possess'd with rumours, full of idle dreams, 
Not kno^^ing %vhat they fear, but full of fear. ' " 

On^^7/«=because of, cf. iii. 6. 21 above. 

22. Each way and move. Theobald conjectured that we should readi 
'*Each way and wave;" Capell, "And move each way;" Johnson, 
"Each way, and move;" Steevens, "And each way move;" and Dn 
Ingleby, " Which way we move." The C. P. ed. says : " The following, 
which we put forward with some confidence, yields, by the change cf two 
letters only, a good and forcible sense : ' Each way, and none.' That is, 
we are floating in every direction upon a violent sea of uncertainty, and 
yet make no way. We have a similar antithesis, M. of V. i. 2. 65 : * He 
is every man in no man.' " Perhaps S. wrote " Each way we move." 

If we retain the old reading, it seems best to make viove=X.o%^ about, 
as Schmidt explains it. Cf. Cyrjib. iii. i. 28 ; 

" and his shipping — 
Poor ignorant baubles! — on our terrible seas, 
Like egg-shells moved upon their surges," etc. 

H. (2d ed.) makes w^7Z'^ = " movement, or motion ;" which we might pre- 
fer if S. anywhere else used move as a noun. 

23. Shall. For the " ellipsis of the nominative," see Gr. 399. 

29. It -would be my disgrace. That is, I should give way to unmanly 
weeping. The C. P. ed. com.pares Hen. V. iv. 6. 30 : 

*' But I had not so much of man in me, 
And all my mother came into mine eyes, 
And gave me up to tears." 

30. Sirrah. Used playfully. It was ordinarily addressed to in- 
feriors, and was considered disrespectful, or unduly familiar, if applied 
to a superior. Cf. Much Ado, iv. 2. 14 : 

" Dogberry. . . . Yours, sirrah ? 

Co7irade. I am a gentleman, sir, and my name is Conrade." 

It was also addressed to women. See A. and C. v. 2. 229 : " sirrab 
Iras, go." Furness cites other instances from B. and F. and Webster. 

32. With ziwrms. On worms. Cf. Rich. II. iii. 2. 175 : "I live with 
bread like you." Gr. 193. 

34. Lime. Bird-lime.' Cf. Temp. iv. i. 246 and T G. of V. ii. 2. 68. 

35. Gin. Snare. Cf. T. A', ii. 5. 92 ; 2 Hen. VI. iii. I. 262, etc. See 
also Psalms, cxl. 5. 

36. They. It is a question whether this refers to the traps just men- 
tioned or to birds (Gr. 243). Delius makes it the latter. In either case, 
as the C. P. ed. remarks, the emphasis is on Poor, and the meaning is 
that in life traps are not set for the poor but for the rich. 

47. Swears and lies. That is, proves false to his oath, perjures him 
se]£ 



ACT IV. SCENE III. 



237 



56. Enow. See on ii, Z- 1- ■ 

65. In your state, etc. I am perfectly acquainted with your noble rank 
and character. Clarke remarks : " The man sees her in her own castle, 
and knows her to be its lady mistress ; but he also seems to know that 
she is a virtuous, a kind, a good lady as well as a noble lady, and there- 
fore comes to warn her of approaching danger." On perfect, cf. W. T, 

iii. 3. I : , . , 

Thou art perfect then, our ship hath touch'd upon 
The deserts of Bohemia?" 

and Cymb. iii. i. 73 : 

" I am perfect 
That the Pannonians and Dalmatians for 
Their Hberties are now in arms." 

66. I doubt. I suspect, fear. Cf. M. W. i. 4. 42, etc. 

67. Homely. Plain, humble. S. also uses it in the other sense of 
plain-featured, ugly ; as in T. G. ofV. ii. 4. 98, C. of E. ii. i. 89, etc. 

69. To fright, etc. On the construction, see Gr. 356, 357. 

70. To do worse. That is, to let her and her children be destroyed 
without warning (Johnson). Another explanation assumes that the mes- 
senger was one of the murderers who, actuated by pity and remorse, had 
outstripped his companions to give warning of their approach. 

75. Sonietiine. See on i. 6. ii, or Rich. II. p. 158. 

81. Where. On zuhere following so, see Gr. 279 ; and for mayst, Gr. 
412. 

82. Shag-hair'' d. The folios have " shagge-ear'd," " shag-eard," or 
" shag-ear'd," which some modern eds. retain. Steevens was the first to 
substitute " shag-hair'd," which he shows to be common in the old plays. 
Cf 2 Heu. VI. iii. i. 367 : "a shag-hair'd crafty kern" (the "rough, rug- 
headed kerns" oi Rich. II. ii. i. 156). Malone notes that hair was some- 
times written " heare," and cites Lodge, Incarnate Devils, etc., 1596: 
"shag-heard slave." 

Egg. The C. P. ed. quotes I. L. I. v. i. 78 : " thou pigeon-egg of dis- 
cretion;" and T. and C v. i. 41 : " Finch-egg !" 

83. Fry. Cf. V. and A. 526 : " No fisher but the ungrown fry for- 
bears." 

Scene III. — Before the King^s Palace. Given by D. in place of "^ 
Room in the King's Palace,'" found in most eds. The change is favoured 
by line 140 : " Conies the king/w//z, I pray you ?" 

Cf. the extract from Holinshed, p. 145 above. 

3. Mortal. Deadly. Cf. i. 5. 39. 

4. Bestride. Stand over to defend. Cf. C. of E. v. i. 192 : 

" When I bestrid thee in the wars and took 
Deep scars to save thy life;" 

and 2 Hen. IV. i. i. 207 : 

" Tells them he doth bestride a bleeding land, 
Gasping for life under great Bolingbroke." 

Birthdom (used by S. nowhere else) ^mother country. It is " Birth- 
dome " in the folio. 



238 NOTES. 

6. Strike heaven, etc. The C. P. ed. notes the somewhat similar hy. 
perbole in Temp. i. 2. 4 : 

" But that the sea, mounting to the welkin's cheek, 
Dashes the fire out." 

Cf. M. of V. ii. 7. 45 : " 

' ' The watery kingdom, whose ambitious head 
Spets in the face of heaven." 

We have also " the face of heaven " in Rich. III. iv. 4, 239 ; " the cloud} 
cheeks of heaven " in Rich. II. iii. 3, 57. The sun is called "the eye of 
heaven" in i. 3. 275, and "the searching eye of heaven " in iii. 2. 37, of 
the same play. 

For that— so that, see on i, 2. 58. Gr. 283. 

8. Syllable. Expression, cry. Cf. the figurative use of the word in 
v. 5. 21. 

ID. To friend. On to — iox, see Gr. 189. Cf J. C. iii. i. 143 : " I know 
that we shall have him well to friend ;" Rich. II. iv. i. 307 : " I have a 
king here to my flatterer," etc. See also Matt. iii. 9, Lzcke, iii. 8, etc. 

11. //. On the redundant use of pronouns, see Gr. 242, 243. 

12. Sole name. Mere name, very name. 

Blisters oicr tongues. We have the same figure in R. and J. iii. 2. 90, 
Z. Z. Z. V. 2. 335, and W. T. ii. 2. 33. 

14. Touch'' d. Cf. iii. 2. 26. 

15. Deserve. The folios have " discerne " or " discern." The correc- 
tion, like so many others, is due to Theo. 

And wisdojn. And it is wisdom. See examples of similar ellipsis in 
Gr. 403. Various emendations have been suggested ; as " 't is wisdom," 
" and wisdom 't were," " and wisdom bids," " and wisdom is it," etc. 

19. Recoil. " Fall off, degenerate " (Schmidt). Cf. Cyinb. i. 6. 128 : 
"Recoil from your great stock." In an imperial charge — ^'\vhen acting 
by a king's command" (Moberly). J. Hunter explains it, "when invest- 
ed with sovereignty," apparently referring it to Macbeth. 

21. Transpose. Change, transform. It has the same meaning in the 
only other passage where S. uses it, M. N. D.\. i. 233 : 

" Things base and vile, holding no quality, 
Love can transpose to form and dignity." 

23. Would. Apparently =j-/zcz//i2f; but cf Gr. 331. 

24.- Leok so. That is, look like grace. Cf. M.for M. ii. i. 297 : " Mer- 
cy is not itself that oft looks so." 

I have lost my hopes. That is, because they depended upon his being 
trusted by Malcolm. 

25. Perchance, etc. Perhaps because your own course (in leaving your 
family as you did) compels me to distrust you. 

26. Rawness. " Want of due preparation and provision " (Schmidt). 
S. uses the word only here, but the adverb ratvly (also used but once) 
has a similar sense in Hen. V. iv. i. 147 : " children rawly left." The C. 
P. ed. quotes Tennyson : " Raw haste, half-sister to delay." 

27. Motives. Often applied by S. to persons (Delius). Cf T. of A 
V. 4. 27 ; 0th. iv. 2. 43 ; A. and C. ii. 2. 96, etc. 



ACT IV. SCENE III. 239 

29. Jealousies. " The plural indicates the repeated occasions for his 
suspicion to which the arrival of messengers from Scotland gives rise, not 
merely his present feelings towards Macduff; and this plural occasioned 
the two others, dishonours and safeties " (Delius). 

30. On the measure, see Gr. 454. 

34. Affeer'd. "Confirmed, sanctioned" (Schmidt). It is a law term, 
applied to the fixing of a fine in cases where it is not fixed by the stat- 
ute. Toilet explains the passage thus : " Poor country, wear thou thy 
wrongs ; the title to them is legally settled by those who had the final 
adjudication of it." 

37. To boot. In addition ; still in colloquial use, at least in New England. 

39. / think. I think on the fact that, bear in mind that. Cf. iii. i. 
131 : "always thought," etc. 

43. England. The king of England. Cf line 189 below. See also 
K. John, iii. 4. 8 : "And bloody England into England gone ;" Hen. V. 
iii. 6. 131 : "England shall repent his folly;" Id. iii. 6. 166: "Though 
France himself," etc. ; W. T. i. i. 23 : " Sicilia cannot show himself over- 
kind to Bohemia," etc. 

48. More sundry. In more various. For the omission of the prepo- 
sition, see Gr. 202. 

49. What should he be ? See Gr. 254, 325. 

52. Ope^i'd. Unfolded, like buds or leaves ; carrying out the metaphor 
in grafted. The Coll. MS. has " ripen'd." 

55. Confineless. Boundless, Not found elsewhere in S., but we have 
" fineless " in the same sense in 0th. iii. 3. 173 : " riches fineless." 

57. Top. Overtop, surpass. Cf. Cor. ii. i. 23 : "topping .all others in 
boasting," etc 

58. Luxurious. Lustful, licentious ; the only sense in which S. uses 
the word. Cf. Much Ado, iv. i. 42, etc. Luxury is used in a kindred 
sense ; as in Rich. III. iii. 5. 80, Ham. i. 5. 83, etc. 

59. Sudden. Violent, impetuous, passionate (Schmidt). Cf. A. Y.L. 
ii. 7. 151 : " Sudden and quick in quarrel ;" 0th. ii. i. 279 : "he is rash 
and very sudden in choler," etc. 

64. Continent. Restraining. Qi.Lear,\.2. 182: "a continent for- 
bearance." Cf. also the use of the noun in Lear, iii. 2. 58, A. and C. iv. 
14. 40, etc. 

66. Such an one. Cf loi below, where we have "such a one." Both 
forms are found in the early eds. 

67. In nature. Delius connects these words with tyranny = " organic 
intemperance," as contrasted with the "political tyranny" of Macbeth. 
It seems simpler to make it = in its nature. The C. P. ed. explains tyr- 
anny as " usurpation," and compares iii. 6. 25. 

71. Convey your pleasures. " Indulge them secretly" (Schmidt). So 
in Rich. III. iv. 2. 96, " convey letters " = send them secretly. Cf also 
Lear, i. 2. 109, and Hejt. V. i. 2. 74. Convey was used as a cant term for 
steal; as in M. W. i. 3. 32, Rich. II. iv, I. 317, etc. The Coll. MS. has 
" enjoy." 

72. The time you may so hoodwink. " That no man shall be aware 
thereof" (Holinshed). 



24d NOTES. 

74. That. On the construction, see Gr. 277. 

77. Ill-coffiposed. Compounded of evil qualities. The C. P. ed. com- 
pares " well composed " in T. and C. iv. 4. 79. Affection — disposition. 

78. Stanchless. Insatiate. Cf. stanch — satiate, in T. A. iii. i. 15. 
80. His. This one's. See Gr. 217. 

82. Thai. So that. Gr. 283. 

Forge. Frame, fabricate. Used by S. in both a good and a bad sense. 
Cf A. W. i. I. 85 : " The best wishes that can be forged in your thoughts ;" 
Id. iv. I, 26 : " the lies he forges," etc. 

86. Summer-seeming. ''Which appears to belong to the heyday of 
youth, and to pass with it " (Moberly). It is contrasted with avarice, 
which is lifelong. " Summer -teeming" and "summer -seeding" have 
been suggested as emendations. Malone notes that Donne has " winter- 
seeming " in Love''s Alchy^ny : 

" So, lovers dreame a rich and long delight. 
But get a winter-seeming summers night." 

88. Foisons. Rich harvests, plenty. Cf. Sonn. 53. 9 : 

"Speak of the spring and foison of the year; 
The one doth shadow of your beauty show, 
The other as your bounty doth appear." 

See also Temp. ii. i. 163, iv. i. no, etc. 

89. Mere own. Absolutely your own. Cf. line 152 below, and see 
Temp. p. Ill, note on We are merely cheated. Gr. 15. 

Portable. Endurable ; as in Lear, iii. 6. 115 : " How light and portable 
my pain seems now." In the only other instance of the word in S. it is 
used in the literal modern sense : "an engine not portable" {T. and C. 
ii. 3. 144). Holinshed has importable in this connection : " mine intem- 
perancie should be more importable vnto you," etc. See p. 146 above. 

90. Weighed with. Weighed against, counterbalanced by. 

92. Verity. Truthfulness, honesty. Cf. A. Y. L. iii. 4. 25 : " his verity 
in love." 

Temperance. Self-restraint. Cf M. for M. iii. 2. 251 ; Hen. VIII, i. 
I. 124 ; Cor. iii. 3. 28 ; Ham. iii. 2. 8, etc. 

93. Perceverance. Accented on the second syllable, as in T. and C. 
iii. 3. 150. S. uses the word nowhere else. Per sever he always accents 
on the penult ; as in T. G. of V. iii. 2. 25 : " Ay, and perversely she per- 
severs so." See also C. of E. ii. 2. 217 ; M. N. D. iii. 2. 237, etc. Gr. 
492. 

95. Rehsh of. Not ~ relish j^r, but smack or flavour of. Cf 2 Hen. 
lV.i.2. Ill : "some smack of age, some relish of the saltness of time;" 
Ham. iii. 3. 92 : " no relish of salvation." 

98. The sweet milk, etc. Cf i. 5. 15. 

99. Uproar. "Stir up to tumult" (Schmidt). It is found nowhere 
else as a verb. 

104. Untitled. Steevens quotes Chaucer, C. T. 17172 : "a titleles 
tiraunt." 

105. Wholesome. Healthy, prosperous. Cf M. W. v. 5. 63 : " In state 
as wholesome as in state 't is fit ; Lear, i. 4. 230 : " wholesome weal," etc. 



ACT IV. SCENE III. 



241 



106. Since that. See Gr. 287. 

108, Breed. Parentage. Cf. Rich. II. ii. i. 45: "This happy breed 
(race) of men ;" and Id. ii, i. 52 : " royal kings, Fear'd by their breed " 
(on account of their birth), etc. 

III. Died every day she liv'd. Lived a life of daily mortification (De- 
lius). Malone cites i Cor. xv. 31 : "I die daily." 

The folio has "liv'd," which is retained by Sr., St., W., and others. 
Fare is then a dissyllable. Gr. 480. Pope has " Oh fare." 

118. Trains. Artifices, lures. Cf. the use of the verb (z= entice, allure) 
in C. of E. iii. 2. 45 ; L. L. L. i. i. 71 ; i Hen. IV. v. 2. 21, etc. 

119. Modest wisdom, etc. Cautious wisdom holds me back. 

123. Unspeak. Cf. "unsay" in Rich. II. iv. i. 9; M. N. D. i. i. i8i ; 
Hen. VIII. V. i. 177, etc. 

125. For. As. See Gr, 148. 

133. Here-approach. Cf. " here-remain " in line 148. Gr. 429. 

134. Old Siward. As the C. P. ed. remarks, he was the son of Beorn, 
Earl of Northumberland, and rendered great service to King Edward in 
the suppression ot the rebellion of Earl Godwin and his sons, 1053. Ac- 
cording to Holinshed, who follows Boethius, Duncan married a daughter 
of Siward. It is remarkable that S., who seems to have had no other 
guide than Holinshed, on this point deserts him, for in v. 2. 2 he calls 
Siward Malcolm's uncle. It is true that "nephew" was often used like 
"nepos," in the sense of grandson, but we know of no instance in which 
"uncle" is used for "grandfather." 

135. Already. The folio reading. *-^ome editors adopt Rowe's "All 
ready." 

At a point, like at point — completely, prepared for any emergency 
(Schmidt). Cf. Ham. i. 2. 200: "Arm'd at point;" leor, i. 4. 347: 
" keep At point a hundred knights," etc. The C. P. ed. compares Foxe's 
Acts and Monumeitts, ed. 1570: "The Register there sittyng by, beying 
weery, belyke, of tarying, or els perceauyng the constant Martyrs to be 
at a point, called vpon the chauncelour in hast to rid them out of the 
way, and to make an end." So also in Bunyan's Life: "When they 
saw that I was at a point and would not be moved nor persuaded, Mr. 
Foster told the justice that then he must send me to prison." Florio 
{Ital. Diet.) gives, " Essere in punto, to be in a readinesse, to be at a 
point." Cf. Holinshed's "fallen at a point," p. 139. above. 

136. The chance, etc. " May the chance of success be as certain as 
the justice of our quarrel " (C. P. ed.). Delius explains chance of goo d- 
ness as "successful issue," and warranted qttarrel as "our righteous 
cause." On quarrel, cf i. 2. 14. Hanmer gave "our chance, in good- 
ness," and Johnson suggesteti "the chance, O goodness." St. has "be- 
like " ~ approve or favour. 

140-159. The C. P. editors express the opinion that these lines "were 
probably interpolated previous to a representation at Court." Fleay 
ascribes them to Middleton. Mr. Hales suggests that, if they are an 
interpolation, S. may himself have inserted them for the Court per- 
formance. 

142. Stay his ctire. Wait to be healed by him. Cf T. G. of V. ii. %. 

Q 



242 • NOTES. 

13 : "My father stays my coming;" M. of V. ii. 8. 40: "But stay tht 
very riping of the time," etc. 

Convinces, etc. Overpowers the utmost efforts of medical skill. On 
convinces, cf, i. 7. 64. 

145. Presently. Immediately. See Mer. p. 131, or Rich. II. p. 182. 

146. The evil. The scrofula, or " the king's evil," as it was long called. 
The C. P. ed. remarks : " Edward's miraculous powers were believed in 
by his contemporaries, or at least soon after his death, and expressly 
recognized by Pope Alexander III., who canonized him. The power of 
healing was claimed for his successors early in the twelfth century, for 
it is controverted by William of Malmesbury, and asserted later in the 
same century by Peter of Blois, who held a high office in the Royal 
Household (see Freeman's No7'vian Conquest, vol. ii. pp. 527, 528). The 
same power was claimed for the kings of France, and was supposed 
to be conferred by the unction of the ' Sainte Ampoule ' on their corona- 
tion. William Tooker, D.D., in his Charisma sezi Donnm Sanationis, 
1597, while claiming the power for his own sovereign, Elizabeth, con- 
cedes it also to the Most Christian King ; but Andre Laurent, physician 
to Henry IV. of France, taxes the English sovereigns with imposture. 
His book is entitled, ' De Mirabilis trumas sanandi vi solis Galliae Regi- 
bus Christianissimis divinitus concessa,' etc., 1609. The Roman Catho- 
lic subjects of Elizabeth, perhaps out of patriotism, conceded to her the 
possession of this one virtue, though they were somewhat staggered to 
find that she possessed it quite as much after the Papal excommunication 
as before. James the First's practice of touching for the evil is mention- 
ed several times in Nichols's Progresses, e. g. vol. iii. pp. 264, 273. Charles 
I., when at York, touched seventy persons in one day. Charles II. also 
touched when an exile at Bruges, omitting perhaps, for sufficient reason, 
the gift of the coin. He practised with signal success after his restora- 
tion. One of Dr. Johnson's earliest recollections was the being taken to 
be touched by Queen Anne in 1712 (Boswell, vol. i. p. 38). Even Swift 
seems to have believed in the efficacy of the cure [Works, ed. Scott, vol. 
ii. p. 252). The Whigs did not claim the power for the Hanoverian 
sovereigns, though they highly resented Carte's claiming it for the Pre- 
tender in his History of England." 

A form of prayer to be used at the ceremony was introduced into the 
Book of Common Prayer as early as 1684, and was retained up to 1719. 
\s late as 1745 Prince Charles at Holyrood touched a child for the evil. 

149. Solicits. Moves by his prayers. Cf Rich. II. i. 2. 2 : "Doth 
more solicit me than your exclaims." 

152. Mere. See on line 89 above. 

153. A golden stamp. As the C. P. ed. remarks, there is no warrant in 
Holinshed for the statement that the Confessor hung a golden coin or 
stamp about the necks of the patients. This was, however, a custom 
which prevailed in later days. Previously to Charles II.'s time some 
current coin, as an angel, was used for the purpose, but in his reign 
a special medal was struck and called a " touch-piece." The identical 
touch-piece which Queen Anne hung round the neck of Dr. Johnsor/ 
is preserved in the British Museum. 



ACT IV. SCENE III. 



243 



On sia7np=co\n, d. M. W. iii. 4. 16 : " Stamps in gold or sums in seal- 
ed bags ;" and Cymb. v. 4. 24 : " they weigh not every stamp.'* 

154. Spoken. Said. See on iii. 4. 8. Gr. 200. 

i60i My countryman. He recognizes him as such by his dress. 

163. Makes. This may be viewed as the "3d person plural in -j" 
(Gr. 333), like "gives" in ii. i. 61 ; but S. sometimes uses means as a 
singular. Cf. M. of V. ii. i. 19 : " that means ;" W. T. iv. 4. 632 : "this 
means ;" C. of E. i. r. 76 : " Other means was none," etc. He also 
often uses the singular mean; as in W. T. iv. 4. 89, 0th. iii. i. 39, J. C. 
iii. I. 161, etc. 

168. Reiif. The folio reading, generally changed to the equivalent 
" rend." Cf. M. N. D. p. 166. 

170. Modern. Ordinary, common ; z.s\\\R. and J. \\\. 2.120'. "modern 
lamentation ;" A. W. ii. 3. 2 : " modern and familiar," etc. 

For ecstasy, see on iii. 2. 21. 

171. Scarce ask' d for who. See Gr. 274, 414. 

172. Flowers in their caps. H. Rowe observes that it was customary 
with the Highlanders, when on a march, to stick sprigs of heath in their 
bonnets. 

173. Or ere. Cf. Temp. i. 2. 11 ; Ham. i. 2. 147, etc. The or, like the 
ere, is the A. S. cer, which is found in Early English in the forms er, air, ar, 
ear, or, etc. Ere seems to have been added fo or for emphasis when the 
meaning of the latter was coming to be forgotten. Or is still found in 
northern dialects (Halliwell's Archaic Diet.). Cf. Scott, Rob Roy : " Ther 
will be broken heads amang us or it's long." See Matzner, iii. 446, or 
Gr. 131. 

174. Too nice. Too precise (Schmidt) or minute; not "too fancifully 
minute," as the C. P. ed., H., and others explain it. "Notwithstanding 
the relation is so full of distressing particulars, it is yet too true" (Noble 
Butler). 

175. That of an hoiir's age, etc. Moberly explains this: "If a man 
tells a crime that is an hour old, they say ' buzz ' to him for stale news ;" 
and compares Ham. ii. 2. 412 : 

" Polo7iius. The actors are come hither, my lord." 
Hamlet. Buz, buz !' ' 

Blackstone says, '■^ Buz used to be an interjection at Oxford when any 
one began a story that was generally known before." Cf T of S. ii. i. 
207. But in the present passage doth hiss the speaker may mean nothing 
more than "exposes him to derision." 

176. Teems. Brings forth. Cf T. of A. iv. 3. 179, and Hen. V. v. 2. 51. 

177. Children. A trisyllable here. Gr. 477. 
179. At peace. Cf Rich. II. iii. 2. 127 : 

''^Richard. I warrant they have made peace with Bolingbroke. 
Scroop. Peace have they made with him indeed, my lord." 

183. Were out. "Had taken the field" (Schmidt). In Lear, i. i. 33 
(" He hath been out nine years ") (7«^=abroad, in foreign countries. 

184. Witness''d. Made credible. 

185. For that. See Gr. 287, 238, Power = army, forces ; as often 



244 



NOTES. 



Cf. line 236 below. The plural was used in the same sense {so force and 
forces now). See y. C. p. 168, note on Are levying pozvers. 

191. None. There is none. For the ellipsis, see Gr. 403. 

On give out — show (Schmidt), cf. W. T. iv. 4. 149 ; T. N. iii. 4. 203 ; 
0th. iii. 3. 209, etc. 

194. Would. See Gr. 329. 

195. Latch. Catch. Q,i. Sonn. 113. 6: 

" For it no form delivers to the heart 
Of bird, or flower, or shape, which it doth latch." 

Schmidt explains the verb similarly in M. N. D. iii. 2. 36, where some 
make it=r smear ; a meaning found nowhere else. 

Spenser has latched^CdiW^t, in Shep. Kal. March, 94 : 

" So long I shott, that al was spent ; 
Tho pumie stones I hastly hent, 

And threw ; but nought availed ; 
He was so wimble and so wight, 
From bough to bough he lepped light, 

And oft the pumies latched." 

Cf. Golding's Ovid, Met. i. : " As though he would, at everie stride, 
betweene his teeth hir latch ;" and Met. viii. : 

" But that a bough of chesnut-tree, thick-leaved, by the way 
Did latch it," etc. 

196. A fee-grief. " A grief that hath a single owner " (Johnson). 
202. Possess them zvith. Fill them with. Cf. K'. John, iv. 2. 203 : 

"Why seek'st thou to possess me with these fears?" See also i Hen. 
IV. ii. 2. 112 ; Hen. VIII. ii. I. 158; M. W. i. 3. no, etc. 

206. Quarry. Dead bodies ; literally, the game killed in hunting. Cf. 
Cor. i. I. 202, and Ha^n. v. 2. 375. 

208. Ne''er pidl your hat, etc. Steevens notes that the same expression 
occurs in the old ballad of " Northumberland betrayed by Douglas :" 

*' He pulled his hatt down over his browe, 
And in his heart he was full woe," etc. 

209. The grief that does not speak, etc. Steevens quotes Webster, 
White Devil : 

" Poor heart, break ; 
These are the killing griefs which dare not speak ;" 

?>entc2i, Hippolyttis : "Curae leves loquuntur, ingentes stupent;" and 
Greene, Fair Bellora : 

'* Light sorrowes often speake, 
When great the heart in silence breake." 

Cf. V. and A. 329 : 

"the heart hath treble wrong 
When it is barr'd the aidance of the tongue." 

210. Whispers, For the omission of the preposition, see Gr. 200. 
212. Alust be. Was destined to be (Gr. 314). 

216. He has no children. The C. P. ed. takes this as referring to Mac- 
beth ; " therefore my utmost revenge must fall short of the injury he has 



ACT IV. SCENE ///. 



245 



inflicted upon me." We prefer, with Malone, to apply it to Malcolm. 
Cf. A'. John, iii. I, 91 : " He talks to me that never had a son." Mober- 
ly refers it to Macbeth, but explains it thus; ''Had he had children, he 
could not have done it." He cites 3 Hen. VI, v. 5. 63 : 

"You have no children, butchers; if you had. 
The thought of them would have stirr'd up remorse." 

220. Dispute it. "Contend with your present sorrows" (Steevens), 
fight against it ; or, perhaps, "reason upon it," as Schmidt explains it. 

221. Btit I must also feel it, etc. On this passage Horn (quoted by 
Furness) remarks : " Put these lines before hundreds of French, English, 
and German tragedies, and they sound like scathing satire ; put them 
before Egmont or William Tell, and they give us a hearty delight. Let 
them never again, ye dear poets, sound like irony, but give us human be- 
ings with hearts that can bleed and heal ! Then you will never shrink 
from that motto." 

223. That. On that following sttch, see Gr. 279. 

225. Natight. Worthless thing. Q{. Ham. iii. 2. 157: "You are 
naught," etc. 

229. Convert. Change. Cf. R. of L. 592 : " For stones dissolv'd to 
water do convert ;" Id. 691 : " This hot desire converts to cold disdain ;" 
Much Ado, i.' I. 123 : ' Courtesy itself must convert to disdain," etc. 

231. But, gentle heavens, etc. It is here, and not at line 216, that the 
possibility of revenge on Macbeth first occurs to Macduff (Delius). 

232. Intermission. Delay. Cf. M. of V. iii. 2. 201 : 

"You lov'd, I lov'd; for intermission 
No more pertains to me, my lord, than you." 

234. Scape. See on iii. 4. 20. 

235. Too. " If I don't kill him, then I am worse than he, and I not 
only forgive him myself, but pray God to forgive him also ; or perhaps it 
is, then I am as bad as he, and may God forgive us both. I cannot point 
to an instance, anywhere, of language more intensely charged with mean- 
ing"(H.). 

Tunt is Rowe's emendation for the " time " of the folios. On the ad- 
verbial use oi manly, see Gr. 447. Cf iii. 5. i. 

Coleridge observes : " How admirably Macduff's grief is in harmony 
with the whole play ! It rends, not dissolves the heart. ' The tune of 
it goes manly.' Thus is S. always master of himself and of his subject — 
a genuine Proteus; — we see all things in him, as images in a calm lake, 
most distinct, most accurate — only more splendid, more glorified." 

237. Our lack, etc. We. need only the king's leave to set out; or^ 
perhaps, to take our leave of the king. Schmidt makes it the latter. 

239. Put on. "Set to work" (Schmidt). Cf Ham. iv. 7. 132, v. 2. 
408, etc. It often means to instigate, incite ; as in Lear, i. 4. 227, 0th. W 

3- 357, etc. 

For instruments applied to persons, cf. i. 3. 124 and iii. i. 80 above. 



246 



NOTES. 










Scene I. — 3. fVeni into the field. Steevens thinks S. forgot that he 
had shut up Macbeth in Dunsinane ; but, as Boswell notes, Ross says 
(iv. 3. 185) that he had seen "the tyrant's power afoot." The strength 
of his adversaries, and the revolt of his own troops (v. 2, 18), had prob- 
ably led him to retreat into his castle. 

4. Nightgozvjt. See on ii. 2. 70. 

9. Effects. Actions. Cf Ham. iii. 4. 129 ; Lear, i. i. 188, ii. 4. 182, etc. 

10. Shimbery. For other adjectives of similar formation, see Gr. 450. 

11. Actual. "Consisting in doing anything, in contradistinction to 
thoughts or words" (Schmidt) ; as in 0th. iv. 2. 153, the only other in- 
stance of the word in S. 

17. Close. Hidden ; as in y. C i. 3. 131, etc. 

20. 'T is her cof?imand. Dr. Bucknill asks: "Was this^to avert the 
presence of those 'sightless substances' (i. 5.47) once impiously in- 
voked ? She seems washing her hands, and ' continues in this a quarter 
of an hour.' What a comment on her former boast, 'A little water 
clears us of this deed !' " 



ACT V. SCENE II. 247 

22. Is shut. The folios have "their sense are shut" It may be an 
instance under Gr. 471, like horse, etc. See on ii. 4. 14. Cf. Sonn. 1 12. 10 : 

" my adder's sense 
To critic and to flatterer stopped are." 

32. Hell is murky. Steevens thinks that she imagines herself talking 
t-o Macbeth, and that these are his words which she repeats contemptu- 
ously ; but it seems better (with Clarke and Noble Butler) to regard 
them as the expression of her own dread of hell. 

40. You mar all, etc. "Alluding to the terrors of Macbeth, when the 
Ghost broke in on the festivity of the banquet" (Steevens). 

42. Go to. Often used as an expression of exhortation or reproof 
(Schmidt). Cf. Temp. iv. i. 253 ; 0th. iv. 2. 194, etc. See also Genesis, 
xi. 3, 4., 7 and xxxviii. 16 ; 2 Kings, v. 5, etc. 

46. Smell. Verplanck, after remarking that " the more agreeable as- 
sociations of this sense" are often used for poetic effect, adds: "But 
the smell has never been successfully used as a means of impressing the 
imagination with terror, pity, or any of the deeper emotions, except in 
this dreadful sleep-walking scene of the guilty Queen, and in one par- 
allel scene of the Greek drama, as wildly terrible as this. It is that 
passage of the Agamemnon of ^schylus, where the captive prophetess, 
Cassandra, wrapt in visionary inspiration, scents first the smell of blood, 
and then the vapours of the tomb breathing from the palace of Atrides, 
as ominous of his approaching murder." 

\<:^* Sorely charged. Heavily laden. Cf. iv. 3. 210: "the o'erfraught 
heart." 

52. The dignily, etc. "The queenly rank of the lady herself" (C. P. 
ed.). 

56. Which. See Gr. 266. 

60. On 's. Cf. " on 't," i. 3. 42, etc. See also Lear, i. 4. 114, iv. 5. 20, 
etc. Gr. 182. 

72. Remove, etc. Lest the lady in her despair might commit sui- 
cide (Delius). On annoyance, cf. K. John, v. 2. 150; T and C. i. 3. 48, 
etc. 

74. Mated. Bewildered, paralyzed. Cf V. and A. 909 ; C. of E. iii. 2. 
54, v. I. 281 ; and 2 Hen. VI. iii. i. 265. 

Scene II. — 3. Revenges. For the plural, cf. M. for M. iv. 3. 140; A. 
W.V.2. 10 ; T. tV. V. i. 385 ; Cor. iv. 5. 143, etc. 

Dear catises. Cf. Lear, iv. 3. 53 : " Some dear cause." On the pecul- 
iar uses of dear in S. see Temp. p. 124, note on The dear''st <?' th' loss. 

4. Alarm. Call to arms. See on "alarum'd," ii. i. 53. 

5. 77?^ mortified man. " The veriest ascetic " (Moberly). Cf. L. L. L. 
i. I. 28. Schmidt explains mortified as "deprived of vital faculty, made 
apathetic and insensible." There is little to choose between the two. 
The C. P. ed. suggests that it may mean " dead, mortified in the literal 
sense ;" as in Hen. V.\. i. 26. 

8. File. List. See on iii. i. 94. 

10. Unrough. Beardless. Cf. Temp. ii. i. 250 : " rough and ra2or- 



248 NOTES. 

able." See also W. T. i. 2, 128, iv. 4. 744. Malone cites A^ John^ v. 2. 
133: "This unhair'd sauciness and boyish troops." 

1 1. Protest. Proclaim. Cf. iii. 4. 105 ; and on first of manhood, iii. 

1. 117. 

13. Lesser. S. uses it several times as an adverb. See on i. 3. 65, 
15. Steevens notes that we have the same metaphor in T. and C. ii, 

2. 30 : 

"And buckle in a waist most fathomless 
With spans and inches so diminutive 
As fears and reasons." 

Sr., D., Coll., and H. (2d ed.) adopt Walker's "course" for cause. The 
C. P. ed. explains distemper'' d cause as the disorganized party, the dis- 
ordered body over which he rules. Instead of being like " a well-girt 
man," ev^tuvog dvijp, full of vigour, his state is like one in dropsy. We 
have the same metaphor more elaborated in 2 /le^t. IV. iii. i. 38 : 

^^ King. Then you perceive the body of our kingdom 
How foul it is ; what rank diseases grow, 
And with what danger, near the heart of it. 

Warwick. It is but as a body yet distemper' d," etc. 

18. Minutely. " Happening every minute, continual " (Schmidt). 
Used nowhere else by S. 

20. Nothing. Adverbial, as in v. 4. 2. Gr. 55. For the figure that 
follows, cf. i. 3. 145. 

23. Pester'' d. Troubled, perplexed. Cf. Ham. i. 2. 22 ; T. and C. v. 
I. 38, etc. On to recoil— iox recoiling, see Gr. 356. Cf iv. 3. 19. 

27. Medicine. Some critics take this to mean physician (Fr. medecin), 
as in A. W. ii. i. 75, and W. T. iv. 4. 598. Schmidt so explains it here. 
But the next line rather favours taking it in its ordinary sense. Him 
may refer to Malcolm, as Heath suggests, not to 7nedicine. It is not 
easy to decide between the two interpretations. Cf iii. 4. 76. 

30. Dew. Also used as a verb in V. and A. 66 ; M. N. D. ii. i. 9 ; 
R. and y. v. 3. 14, etc. 

Scene III. — i. Them. That is, the thanes. 

3. Taint. Be infected. Cf Cymb. i, 4. 148, and T. N. iii. 4. 145. Walker 
conjectured " faint." 

5. On the measure, see Gr, 496. Y ox pronounce, cf Hen. VIII. i. i. 196. 

8. English epicures. The C. P. ed. observes that gluttony was a com- 
mon charge brought by the Scotch against their wealthier neighbours. 
" The English pock-puddings " is a phrase of frequent occurrence in the 
Waverley Novels. The English too brought similar charges against their 
Continental neighbours. Delius quotes from the drama oi Edward III, 
falsely attributed to Shakespeare : 

"Those ever-bibbing epicures, 
Those frothy Dutchmen, puff'd with double beer." 

9. The mind I sway by. That is, am directed by (Schmidt). Some 
explain it, "by which I bear rule." 

10. Sag. Droop. We infer from the C. P. ed. that the word is only 
provincial in England. Like some other words we have noted in S., it 



ACT V. SCENE III. 249 

is still in common use in New England. See Mer. p. 139, note on Fill^ 
horse; also on Paddock, i. i. 10, and Sliver' d, iv. i. 28 above. 
13. There is. See Gr. 335. 

15. Lily-livered. Cowardly. Cf. Lear, ii. 2. 18: "A lily - liver'd, 
action - taking knave ;" M. of V. iii. 2, 86 : " livers white as milk ;" 
2 He7t. IV. iv. 3. 113 : "the liver white and pale," etc. 

Patch. Clown, fool. See Mer. p. 142. Cf. Tetnp. iii. 2. 71 ; C. of E. 
iii. I. 32, etc. 

16. Linen cheeks. Steevens quotes Hen. V. ii. 2. 74: "Their cheeks 
are paper." See on iii. 4. 116. 

20. Push. Attack, onset (Schmidt) ; as in J. C. v. 2, 5, etc. 

21. Will cheer me, etc. The ist folio has "Will cheere me euer, or 
dis-eate me now;" the other folios have "disease" for "dis-eate." Capell 
conjectured " disseat," which has been generally adopted by the editors, 
with Bishop Percy's suggestion of "chair" for "cheer." S. uses neither 
disseat nor the verb chair anywhere else. Furness suggests " dis-ease," 
which, as he remarks, " is the logical antithesis to cheer, and is used with 
no little force in the earlier versions of the New Testament." Cf. Luke, 
viii. 49 (both in Cranmer's Version, 1537, and in the version of 1581) : 
"Thy daughter is dead, disease not the Master." Cotgrave gives 
"disease, trouble," etc., as translations of the Yx. malaiser. See also 
Spenser, i^. Q. ii. 2, 12: "His double burden did him sore disease;" 
Id. ii. 2, 24 : " Whom raging winds . . . doe diversely disease," etc. Fur- 
ness might have added as a confirmation of his reading that in the only 
other instance in which S. uses disease as a verb it is in this sense. See 
Cor. i. 3. 117: "She will but disease our better mirth."' He uses the 
noun disease several times in the sense of trouble, vexation. Cf i Heti. 
VI. ii. 5. 44 (probably, however, not Shakespeare's) : 

" First, lean thine aged back against mine arm ; 
And in that ease I '11 tell thee my disease." 

See also A. W. v. 4. 68, and T of A. iii. i. 56. 

22. Way. Johnson conjectured " May," which the C. P. editors think 
S. " very probably wrote." Malone quotes Rich. II iii. 4. 48 : 

"He that hath suffer' d this disorder' d spring 
Hath now himself met with the fall of leaf." 

W. says: "Dr. Johnson's emendation is a step prose - ward, although 
speciously poetic." 

23. Sear. Schmidt and Moberly take this to be a noun ; Steevens, 
Halliwell, and D. explain it as an adjective, which seems to us better. 
S. uses the noun or adjective sere (the same word) elsewhere only in 
Ham. ii. 2. 337 : " tickled o' the sere " (where the meaning is much dis- 
puted), and in C. of E. iv. 2. 19 : " He is deformed, crooked, old and 
sere." 

On yellow leaf, cf So7in. 73. i : 

" The time of year thou mayst in me behold 
When yellow, leaves, or none, or few, do hang 
Upon those boughs," etc. 

24. Old a^. Clarke suggests that Macbeth's mention of himself as in 



250 



NOTES. 



the autumn of life is " one of those touches of long time systematically 
thrown in at intervals, to convey the effect of a sufficiently elapsed pe- 
riod for the reign of the usurper since his murder of the preceding king, 
Duncan." Furness asks: "May we not add as one of these 'touches' 
the tardy recognition of Ross by Malcolm in iv. 3. 160 ?" 

35. Moe. More. Cf Much Ado, ii. 3. 72 : " Sing no more ditties, 
sing no moe" (where it rhymes with so, as it does in R. of L. 1479); 
y. C. ii. I. 72 : " there are moe with him," etc. The modern eds. gener- 
ally change it to "more," unless the rhyme requires "moe." 

Skirr. Scour. Used by S. only here and in Hen. V. iv. 7. 64, where 
it is intransitive. 

40. Thou. On the use of the pronoun in the time of S., see Gr. 
231. 

42. Delius notes that we have the same figure in Ham. i. 5. 103 : 
" Within the book and volume of my brain." 

43. Oblivious. Causing forgetfulness (Schmidt). S. uses the word 
only here and in the compound " all-oblivious " (forgetful of all), Sonn. 

55- 9- 

44. Stuffed bosojn of that perilous stuff. There may be a corruption of 

the text here, as many critics have supposed, but similar repetitions are 
not uncommon in S. Cf. v. 2. 19 and v. 8. 72 in the present play. See 
also A. and C. i. I. 44; A. W. ii. I. 163, v. i. 35 ; R. and J. iii. 2. 92 ; 
K. John, ii. i. 471, etc. V. has "load " and Coll. " grief" for stuff. 

48. Staff. Lance, according to Schmidt; as in K. John/xi. i, 318; 
Rich. III. V. 3. 65, 341 ; Much Ado, v. i. 138, etc. The C. P. ed. explains 
it as " the general's baton." 

50. Come, sir, dispatch. These words are addressed to the attendant 
who is buckling on the armour. The agitation of the speaker's mind is 
marked by his turning from one to the other. No sooner is the armour 
put on than he bids the man pull it off (line 54), and then (line 58) orders 
it to be brought after him (C. P. ed.). 

Cast. This was the word in use for finding out disorders by inspection 
of the water (Steevens). See T. N."^. 153, note on 97. 

52. Purge, etc. Cf. iii. 4. 76. 

55. Se7tna. The reading of the 4th folio. The ist has "Cyme;" the 
2d and 3d, " Cseny." D. suggests that " cyme " was a misprint for 
" cynne," one of the many ways of spelling senna. 

59. Bane. Ruin, destruction ; as in T. and C. iv. 2. 98, T. A. v, 3. 73, 
etc. 

61, 62, Fleay rejects this couplet as a " washy sentiment," and " out 
of place after Macbeth's emphatic declaration." 

Scene IV. — 2. That. When. See Gr. 284 ; and on nothing, Gr. 55. 
H. thinks the allusion is to the spies mentioned at iii. 4. 131 ; Ritter 
refers it to the circumstances of Duncan's murder. 

6. Discovery. This refers to Macbeth's spies (Delius). 

8. Other. See Gr. 12 and cf. 123, 

ID. For set down^sit down, or begin a siege, cf Cor. i. 2. 28, i. 3. no ; 
T. of A.N. 3. 9, etc. 



ACT V. SCENE K 



251 



11. Given. The sense seems to require "gain'd," "ta'en," or "got," 
all of which have been suggested as emendations. The Coll. MS. has 
"gotten." Some have explained ^v'z/^;? as=given them. 

12. More and less. Great and small. Cf. i Hen. IV. iv. 3. 68 : " More 
and less came in with cap and knee ;" 2 Hen. IV. i. i. 209 : "And more 
and less do flock to follow him," etc. See also Gr. 17. 

14. Let oiir jicst censures, etc. "Let our just decisions on the defec- 
tion of Macbeth's followers attend upon the actual result of the battle, 
and let us meanwhile be industrious soldiers ; that is, let us not be neg- 
ligent through security" (Elwin). On <f£';zj-z/r£' = judgment, opinion, cf 
W. T. ii. I. 37 ; Hen. VIII. i. i. 33 (see note in our ed. p. 157) ; Rich. III. 
ii. 2. 144, etc. 

18. Ozve. Here used in the modern sense, as in i. 4. 22 and v. 2. 26. 
For the other meaning ( = have, possess) cf i. 3. 76, i. 4. 10, and iii. 4. 113. 
"The decision of the battle will show us what we have, and at the same 
time what it is our duty yet to do " (Delius). 

19. On the measure, see Gr. 468. 

20. Arbitrate. Decide. Mere speculations are of no use ; fighting 
must settle it. 

Scene V. — 5. Forced. Reinforced, strengthened (Schmidt). The 
Coll. MS. has " farc'd "- " stuffed or filled out." Force^fzxce occurs in 
T. a}id C. ii. 3. 232 and v. i. 64, and perhaps also in Hen. V. ii. chor. 22 
(Schmidt). 

6. Dareful. Used nowhere else by S. 

7. Beat. On the form (as ow forgot in line 9), see Gr. 343. 

ID. CooVd. Malone suggested "'coil'd" (—recoiled, shrunk back), 
and the Coll. MS. has "quail'd," which, as D. remarks, is plausible. 

11. Fell. Literally, skin. Cf A. W. iii. 2. 55, and Lear,M-. 3. 24. 

12. Treatise. Tale,, story ; as in V. and A. 774, and Much Ado, i. 3. 
317, the only other instances in which S. uses the word. On rouse, cf 
iii. 2. 53. 

13. As. As if Cf i. 4. II. Gr. 107. On the passage, oi. Ham. iii. 
4. 121. For with, see on iv. 2. 32. 

14. Direness. Horror. Not used elsewhere by S. 

15. Once. Ever, at any time ; as in iv. 3. 167. Cf Rich. II. ii. 3. 91 ; 
HatJi. i. 5. 121, etc. 6"/^;'^= startle ; as in T. and C. v. 2. loi, etc. 

18. Word. Johnson wanted to make it a "broken sentence," read- 
ing " a time for — such a world !" Steevens compares Rich. IL i. 3. 152 : 
" The hopeless word of ' never to return.' " 

21. Last syllable. Cf A. W, iii. 6. 75 : "even to the utmost syllable 
of your worthiness." 

23. Dusty. The 2d folio has "study," probably the result of an acci- 
dental transposition of the types ; and the later folios copy the error. 
Upton prefers it to dusty. Theo. conjectured " dusky." Coll. quotes 
Anthony Copley, Fig for Fortune, 1596: "Inviting it to dusty death's 
defeature." 

24. For the reference to the stage, the C. P. ed. compares i. 3. 128 and 
ii. 4. 5. See also T. and C. i. 3. 153 : " Like a strutting player." 



252 



NOTES. 



30. Gi'acious my lord. See on iii. 2. 27. 

37. This three mile. On this, cf. I i^t";/. IV. iii. 3. 54 ; and for mile in 
the plural, M. W. iii. 2. 33, Much Ado, ii. 3. 17, etc. See also Rich. II. 
p. 182, note on A thousand pound. 

Delius remarks that " S. has here somewhat shortened the distance of 
twelve miles between Birnam and Dunsinane ;" but all that the mes- 
senger says is that the " moving grove " is now three miles distant. 

40. Cling. Shrink or shrivel up (Schmidt). The C. P. ed. quotes 
Miege {Fr.Dict., 1688) : " Clung with hunger, maigre, sec, elance, comme 
une personne affamee ;" and " To clung, as wood will do being laid up 
after it is cut, secher, devenir sec." Moor, in his Suffolk Words, gives : 
" Clung: shrunk, dried, shrivelled ; said of apples, turnips, carrots," etc. 

42. Pull in. Rein in, check. M. Mason quotes Fletcher, Sea Voy- 
age, ii. I : 

" All my spirits, 
As if they had heard my passing-bell go for me. 
Pull in their powers and give me up to destiny." 

" Pall in " and " pale in " have been suggested as Emendations. 

49. Gin. See on i. 2. 25. On aweary, cf. M. of V.\.2..2; M. N. D. 
V. I. 255, etc. 

The C. P. editors say that lines 47-50 " are singularly weak, and read 
like an unskilful imitation of other passages where Macbeth's despera- 
tion is interrupted by fits of despondency." We are rather disposed to 
agree with Craik, who, commenting on J. C. iv. 3. 95 (" For Cassius is 
aweary of the world "), refers to the present as another of Shakespeare's 
"most pathetic lines." 

50. Estate. " Settled order " (C. P. ed.). Pope changed it to "state." 
Cf. i. 3. 140. 

51. Alarum-bell. W. has "alarum." See on ii. i. 53. On wrack, cf. 
i. 3. 1 14. 

52. Harness. Armour; as in T. and C. v. 3. 31, A. and C. iv. 8. 15, 
etc. See also i Kings, xxii. 34 ; 2 Chron. xviii. 33 and ix. 24. 

Scene VI. — i. Leavy. Cf Mtich Ado, ii. 3. 75, and Per. v. i. 51 
(where most modern eds. have "leafy"). 
2. Show. See on i. 3. 54. 

4. Battle. Battalion. Cf J. C. v. i. 4, v, 3. 108 ; Hen. V. iv. 3. 69, etc. 
Holinshed uses the word (see p. 139). 

5. To do. See Gr. 359, 405. Cf v. 7. 28 and v. 8. 64. 
7. Do we but find. See Gr. 364. 

ID. Hai'bingers. See on i. 4. 45. 

Scene VII. — i. They have tied, etc. Delius cites Lear, iii. 7. 54: "I 
am tied to the stake, and I must stand the course." Bear-baiting was a 
favourite sport in the olden time. The bear was tied to a stake, and a 
certain number of dogs alloweci to attack him at once. Each of these 
attacks was called a co-urse. Steevens quotes Brome, The Antipodes^ 
1638 : " You shall see two ten-dog courses at the great bear." 

2. What 's he. For what, see Gr. 254. 



ACT V. SCENE VIII. 



253 



4. Young Siward. His name was really Osbeorn ; but his cousin 
Siward was slain in the same battle (Moberly). 
7. Than any is. Any -which is. See Gr. 244. 

17. Kerns. See on i. 2. 13. Furness adds here the following (sent to 
him by Rushton) from Coke, 4 Inst. 358 : " Gallowglasses, equites tria- 
rii qui securibus utuntur acutissimis. Kernes sunt pedites qui jaculis 
ntuntur." 

18, Staves. The word staff was applied both to the shaft of a lance 
and to the lance itself. See on v. 3. 48. On either as metrically a 
monosyllable, see Gr. 466. After thon^ " must be encountered," or 
something equivalent, is understood. 

20. Undeeded. Not used elsewhere by S. ; and the same is true of 
clatter in the next line. As the C. P. ed. remarks, Macbeth is particular- 
ly remarkable for the number of these aTrai Xtyo/jieva. 

22. Bruited. " Announced with noise " (Schmidt) ; as in Ham. i. 2. 
127. 

24. Gently. Readily. Schmidt compares Te7np. i. 2. 298 : " And do 
my spiriting gently." 

27. Itself professes. Declares itself 

29. Strike beside us. " Strike the air " (Schmidt), or " deliberately miss 
us" (C. P. ed.). Delius makes it refer to " Macbeth's people who had 
gone over to the enemy." Cf 3 Heit. VI. ii. i. 129 : 

" Their weapons like to lightning came and went ; 
Our soldiers', like the night-owl's lazy flight, 
Or like an idle thresher with a flail, 
Fell gently down, as if they struck their friends." 

Scene VIII. — There is no new scene in the folios. 

1. The Roman fool. Steevens suggests that this alludes perhaps to 
Cato, whose suicide is mentioned in J. C. v. i. loi ; or it may refer more 
generally to " the high Roman fashion of self-destruction, as in Brutus, 
Cassius, Antony, etc." (Sr.). 

2. Whiles. See on i. 5. 5. 

4. Of all men, etc. For the " confusion of construction," see Gr. 409. 

7. Bloodier villain, etc. For the transposition, see on iii. 6. 48. 

9. Easy. For the adverbial use, see Gr. i. 

Intrenchant. That cannot be cut ; the active word in a passive sense. 
Trenchant, as Steevens notes, is used actively in T of A. iv. 3. 115. 
Upton quotes here Ham. i. i. 146 and iv. i. 44. Cf Milton, P. L. vi. 348. 

13. Despair. Not elsewhere used transitively by S. Abbott (Gr. 200) 
says it is perhaps a I,atinism. The verb is similarly used in Ben Jon- 
son's verses prefixed to the folio of 1623 : 

"Shine forth, thou Starre of Poets, and with rage, . 
Or influence, chide, or cheere the drooping Stage ; 
Which, since thy flight fro hence, hath mourn'd like night. 
And despaires day, but for thy Volumes light.' ' 

14. Angel. Genius, demon (Schmidt) ; as in A. and C. ii. 3. 21. We 
have angel in a bad sense in 2 Hen. IV. i. 2. 186 ; Tear, iii. 6. 34 ; C. of E 
iv. 3. 20, etc. Still — constantly ; as often. See Gr. 69. 



254 



NOTES. 



i8. My better part of man. Cf. A. and C. iv. 6. 39 : "my latter part 
of life," etc. Gr. 423. 

20. Palter. Equivocate. Cf. T. and C. ii. 3. 244 ; y. C. ii. I, 126, etc. 

24. Thus Anthony threatens Cleopatra in A. and C. iv. 12. 36. (De- 
lius.) 

The time. Cf. i. 5. 61, i. 7. 81, and iv. 3. 72'. 

26. Upon a pole. That is, upon a cloth hung to a pole. No explana- 
tion would seem to be needed, but some critics have thought it necessary 
to change /t"/^ to "scroll " or "cloth." On underwrite see Gr, 343. 

34. HijH. See Gr. 208. 

The stage-direction in the folio here is '■'■ Ex eimt fighting. Alarums,^'' 
and then in a new line '•''Enter Eighting, and Macbeth slaine.'''' This is 
inconsistent with the stage-direction at line 53 : ^^ Enter Macduffe ; with 
Macbeth'' s head.'''' The C. P. editors think that "this points to some 
variation in the mode of concluding the play," and that "in all likeli- 
hood Shakespeare's part in the play ended here." Fleay believes this 
to be one of the scenes altered by Middleton. 

36. Go off. Die ; as "take ofif" = kill, in i. 7. 20 and iii. i. 104. 

40. On only . . . btct, see Gr. 130. 

41. The which. Gr. 270. 0\\ prowess as a monosyllable, see Gr. 470; 
and on but in next line, Gr. 127. 

42. Unshrijiking station. " Unshrinking attitude" (Moberly). Schmidt 
explains it in the same way. Cf. Ham. iii. 4. 58, and A. and C. iii. 3. 22, 
where station is similarly used. 

48. For the pun on hairs, see on ii. 2. 56. 

49. Wish them to. Wish to them; "the relation of the dative and 
accusative peculiarly inverted " (Schmidt). For wish to — invite, see 
T. of S. i. I. 113, and cf. Id. i. 2. 60, 64. See Holinshed, p. 150 above. 

52. Parted. Departed,»died. Cf Hen. V. ii. 3. 12 ; Rich. III. ii. i. 5, 
etc. On paid his score, cf. line 39 above. 

54. Stands. This is explained by Holinshed (see p. 149), who states 
that the tyrant's head was set upon a pole. The Coll. IMS. adds to the 
stage-direction " on a pike — stick it in the ground." 

56. Pearl. Rowe substituted " peers," which W. adopts. The C. P. 
ed. suggests that the word " may be used generically, as well as to ex- 
press a single specimen," and cites Hen. V. iv. i. 279 : "The intertissued 
robe of gold and pearl." The simplest emendation would seem to be 
" pearls," suggested in the anonymous " Variorum " ed. oi Macbeth, 1807. 

60. Expense. No emendation seems called for, but "expanse," "ex- 
tent," "excess," etc., have been suggested. 

61. Loves. Cf. iii. I. 121 above; also L. L. L. v. 2. 793, 798; W. T. 
i. I. 10 ; J. C. iii. 2. 241, etc. 

63. Be earls. See extract from Holinshed, p. 149 above. 

64. To do. See on v. 6. 5. 

65. Would. See Gr. 329 ; and for as in next line, Gr. 1 13. 

66. ExiVd friends abroad. See on iii. 6. 48. 

68. Producing forth. Bringing forward; that is, in a court of justice, 
Cf. J. C. iii. I. 228 : " Produce his body to the market-place." See also 
W. T. iii. 2, 8i A. ^ iv. i. 6 ; K. John, i, i. 46, etc. 



ADDENDA. 



255 



70. Self and violent hands. Cf. Rich. II. iii, 2. 166; "self and vain 
conceit." Gr. 20. 

72. 77/^ grace of Grace. Theo. remarks that this is a fevourite repe- 
tition with S. Cf. T. G. of V. iii. i. 146, and A. W. ii. i. 163. See on 
V. 3. 44. 

74. One. Rhyming with Scone. Ct. V. and A. 293, and Sonn. 39. 6, 
See on ii. i. 49, or Gr. 80. 

75. Scone. See on ii. 4. 31. 



ADDENDA. 



Note on Introduction, p. 12. — In an article in The Galaxy for Janu- 
ary, 1877 (p. 76), White remarks that the opinion of the Cambridge edi- 
tors seems to him "to a certain extent sound," though he "cannot go to 
the length which they do in rejecting parts of the play as not being 
Shakespeare's work." The passages which he does reject are the follow- 
ing : the speech of Hecate, iii. 5. 2-35, which is " little more than an un- 
meaning jingle of verses ;" the Porter's speeches' in ii. 3, which are " low- 
lived, thoughtless, without any other significance than that of the surface 
meaning of the poor, gross language in which they are written ;" the 
speech of the First Witch, iv. i. 125-132, which "seems to be manifestly 
from the same hand as Hecate's speech," iii. 5. 2-35 ; and the closing 
lines of the play, v. 8. 35-75. He adds : " The person who wrote these 
un-Shakespearian passages was probaoly Middleton. Shakespeare, writ- 
ing the tragedy in haste for an occasion, received a little help, according 
to the fashion of the time, from another playwright ; and the latter hav- 
ing imitated the supernatural parts of this play in one of his own, the 
players or managers afterward introduced from that play songs by him — 
'Music and a Song, Come away, come away,' iii. 5, and 'Music and a 
Song, Black Spirits,' etc., iv. i. This was done to please the inferior 
part of the audience." 

White does not reject i. 2 nor v. 2. The passage on " the evil," iv. 3. 
140-159, he believes to have been an interpolation previous to a perform- 
ance at court, and "probably not Shakespeare's." Of v. 5. 47-50, w^hich 
the Cambridge editors call " singularly weak " lines (see note, p. 252 
above), he says: "The first two have no particular character, nor need 
they have any, as they merely introduce the last two, which contain an 
utterance of blank despair and desolation which seems to me more ex- 
pressive than any other that I ever read." 

Note on Lady Macbeth'' s personal apfearance (p. 35). — We may add 
what Weiss (p. 407) says of " the Mary Stuart of history and the Lady 
Macbeth of Shakespeare :" 

" We know that the former had a delicate exterior, auburn hair, and 
beaming blue eyes : her tone of speaking was gentle and sweet, excel- 
lently soft and low. Mrs. Siddons, whose style and colour were alto- 
gether different, became so saturated with Lady Macbeth as to be con- 
vinced she must have been a blonde. We think that Shakespeare im- 



256 ADDENDA. 

plies and justifies this delicate perception, and turns it into history. 
Both the queens of Scotland represented the kind of blonde women who 
are fired by sunlight : it crisps the golden or the chestnut hair, becomes 
quicksilver in the veins, hits every brain-cell with its actinic ray, and 
chases over the yielding hair in ripples like a blown wheat-field." . . . 

The ravefi himself is hoarse, etc. (p. 170). — Compare James Russell 
Lowell's remarks on the passage {Among My Books, p. 186) : 

" Here Shakespeare, with his wonted tact, makes use of a vulgar super- 
stition, of a type in which mortal presentiment is already embodied, to 
make a common ground on which the hearer and Lady Macbeth may 
meet. After this prelude we are prepared to be possessed by her emo- 
tion more fully, to feel in her ears the dull tramp of the blood that seems 
to make the raven's croak yet hoarser than it is, and to betray the stealthy 
advance of the mind to its fell purpose. For Lady Macbeth hears not 
so much the voice of the bodeful bird as of her own premeditated mur- 
der, and we are thus made her shuddering accomplices before the fact. 
Every image receives the colour of the mind, every word throbs with the 
pulse of one controlling passion. The epithet fatal makes us feel the 
implacable resolve of the speaker, and shows us that she is tampering 
with her conscience by putting off the crime upon the prophecy of the 
Weird Sisters to which she alludes. In the word battlements, too, not 
only is the fancy led up to the perch of the raven, but a hostile image 
takes the place of a hospitable one ; for men commonly speak of receiv- 
ing a guest under their roof or within their doors. When Duncan and 
Banqoo arrive at the castle, their fancies, free from all suggestion of 
evil, call up only gracious and amiable images. The raven was but the 
fantastical creation of Lady Macbeth's overwrought brain. 

' This castle hath a pleasant seat ; the air 
Nimbly and sweetly doth commend itself 
Unto our gentle senses. 

This guest of summer, 
The temple-haunting martlet, doth approve 
By his lov''d jnansionry that the heaven's breath- 
Smells wooingly here ; no jutty, frieze, 
Buttress, or coign of vantage, but this bird 
Hath made his pendent bed and procreant cradle.' 

" The contrast here cannot but be as intentional as it is marked. 
Every image is one of welcome, security, and confidence. The summer, 
one may well fancy, would be a very different hostess from her whom we 
have just seen expecting them. And why temple-haunting, unless be- 
cause it suggests sanctuary ? O immaginativa, che si ne ricbi delle cose 
di ftior, how infinitely more precious are the inward ones thou givest in 
return! If all this be accident, it is at least one of those accidents of 
which only this man was ever capable." 

The multitudinous seas incarnadine (p. 193). Lowell {Among My Books, 
p. 161) remarks that "the huddling epithet implies the tempest-tossed 
soul of the speaker, and at the same time pictures the wallowing waste 
of ocean more vividly than the famous phrase of iEschylus [dv^pj.0jiiov 
ykXaaiio] does its rippling sunshine." 



ADDENDA. 2^7 

The "Time- Analysis" of the Play.— This is summed up by Mr. 
P. A. Daniel, in his paper "On the Times or Durations of the Action of 
Shakspere's PJays" {Transactions of New Shaks. Soc. 1877-79, P- 207), 
as follows: 

"Time of the Play nine days represented on the stage, and intervals. 
Day I. Act I. sc. i. to iii. 
" 2. Act L sc. iv. to vii. 
" 3. Act II. sc. i. to iv. 

An interval, say a coaple of weeks. 
'* 4. Act in. sc. i. to V. 

[Act III. sc. vi., an impossible time.] 
" 5. Act IV. sc. i. 

[Professor Wilson supposes an interval of certainly not more 
than two days between Days 5 and 6 ; Paton marks two 
days. The general breathless haste of the play is, I think, 
against any such interval between Macbeth's purpose and 
its execution.] 
" 6. Act IV. sc. ii. 

An interval. Ross's journey to England. Paton allows two 
weeks. 
" 7. Act IV. sc. iii., Act V. sc. i. 

An interval. Malcolm's return to Scotland. Three weeks, 
according to Paton. 
" 8. Act V. sc. ii. and iii. 
" 9. Act V. sc. iv. to viii." 
On i. 3 Mr. Daniel comments as follows : " Ross and Angus come from 
the King. Ross describes how the news of Macbeth's success reached 
the King, by post after post. He appears to have entirely forgotten that 
he himself was the messenger ; he however greets Macbeth with the title 
of Cawdor, and Angus informs Macbeth that Cawdor lies under sentence 
of death for ' treasons capital,' but whether he was in league with Norway, 
or with the rebel [Macdonwald], or with both, he knows not. Ross did 
know when, in the preceding scene, he took the news of the victory to the 
King; but he also appears to have forgotten it; at any rate he does not 
betray his knowledge. Macbeth's loss of memory is even more remark- 
able than Ross's. He doesn't recollect having himself defeated Cawdor 
but a few short hours— we might say minutes— ago ; and the Witches' 
prophetic greeting of him by that title, and Ross's confirmation of it, fill 
him with surprise ; for, so far as he knows (or recollects, shall we say.?) 
the thane of Cawdor lives, a prosperous gentleman." 

As to the interval between Days 3 and 4, Mr. Daniel says : " Between 
Acts II. and III. the long and dismal period of Macbeth's reign described 
or referred to in Act III. sc. vi.. Act IV. sc. ii. and iii., and elsewhere in 
the plav, must have elapsed. Macbeth himself refers to it where, in Act 
III. sc. iv., speaking of his Thanes, he says : 

' There 's not a one of them but in his house 
I keep a servant fee'd.' — 

And again— 'I am in blood 

Stepp'd in so far, that, should I wade no more. 
Returning were as tedious as go o'er.' 



258 ADDENDA, 

Vet, almost in the same breath he says — 

' My strange and self-atuse 
Is the initiate fear that wants hard use' 
We are yet but young in deed.'' 

And the first words with which Banquo opens this Act — *Thou hast it 
now,' etc. — would lead us to suppose that a few days at the utmost can 
have passed since the coronation at Scone ; in the same scene, however, 
we learn that Malcolm and Donalbain are bestowed in England and in 
Ireland : some little time must have elapsed before this nev^s could have 
reached Macbeth. Professor Wilson suggests a week or two for this in- 
terval. Mr. Paton would allow three weeks." 

Of iii. 6, Mr. Daniel says : " It is impossible to fix the time of this scene. 
In it ' Lenox and another Lord ' discuss the position of affairs. The 
murder of Banquo and the flight of Fleance are known to Lenox, and 
he knows that Macduff lives in disgrace because he was not at the feast, 
but that is the extent of his knowledge. The other Lord informs him 
that Macbeth did send to Macduff, and that Macduff has fled to England 
to join Malcolm. And that thereupon Macbeth 'prepares for some at- 
tempt of war.' All this supposes the lapse, at the very least, of a day or 
two since the night of Macbeth's banquet; but in the next scene to this 
we find we have only arrived at the early morning following the banquet, 
up to which time the murder of Banquo could not have been known ; nor 
had Macbeth sent to Macduff, nor was the flight of the latter known. The 
scene in fact is an impossibility in any scheme of time, and I am compelled 
therefore to place it within brackets. — See Professor Wilson's amusing 
account of this ' miraculous' scene in the fifth part of Dies Boreales [re- 
printed in New Shaks. Soc. Trans, for 1875-76, pp. 351-58]." 

List of Characters, with the Scenes in which they appear, 
etc. — The numbers in parentheses give the number of lines the 
characters have in each scene. 

Duncan: i. 2(15), 4(36), 6(18). Whole no. 69. 

Malcolm: i. 2(6), 4(10); ii. 3(14); iv. 3(141); v. 4(11), 6(6), 7(2), 
8(20). Whole no. 210. 

Sergeant: i. 2(35). Whole no. 35. 

Lennox: i. 2(2); ii. 3(20); iii. 4(5), 6(32); iv. 1(6); v. 2(7). Whole 
no. 72. 

Ross: i. 2(18), 3(16) ; ii. 4(26) ; iii. 4(5) ; iv. 2(19), 3(41) ; v. 8(9). 
W^hole no. 134. 

Macbeth: i. ^(50), 4(16), 5(4), 7(48); ii. 1(45)- 2(39). 3(33); "i- 1(114). 
2(41), 4(105); iv. 1(75); V. 3(55), 5(44). 7(10), 8(26). Whole no. 705. 

Banquo: i. 3(42), 4(2), 6(8); ii. 1(24), 3(11); iii. 1(21), 3(4). Whole 
no. 112. 

Angus: i. 3(12); v. 2(9). Whole no. 21. 

Messenger: i. 5(5); iv. 2(9); v. 5(9). Whole no. 23. 

Porter: ii. 3(40). Whole no. 40. 

Macduff: ii. 3(40), 4(14) ; iv. 3(91) ; v. 4(3), 6(2), 7(10), 8(19). Whole 
no. 179. 



ADDENDA. 



259 



Donalbain : ii. 3(9). Whole no. 9. 
Old Man: ii. 4(11). Whole no. 11. 
Attendant: iii. 1(1), Whole no. I. 

\st Murderer: iii. 1(10), 3(11), 4(7); iv. 2(4). Whole no. 32. 
2,d Mtirderer : iii. 1(8), 3(9). Whole no. 17. 
^d Mnrderer: iii. 3(8). Whole no. 8. 
Servant: iii. 2(2) ; v. 3(3). Whole no. 5. 
Lord: iii. 4(3), 6(21). Whole no. 24, 
\st Apparition: iv. 1(2). Whole no. 2. 
id Apparition: iv. 1(4). Whole no. 4. 
2,d Apparition: iv. 1(5). Whole no. 5. 
English Doctor: iv. 3(5). Whole no. 5. 
Scotch Doctor: v. 1(38), 3(9). Whole no. 47. 
Menteith: v. 2(10), 4(2). Whole no. 12. 
Caithness: v. 2(11). Whole no. 11. 
Seyton: v. 3(3), 5(2). Whole no. 5. 
Old Siward: v. 4(10), 6(3), 7(6), 8(ri). Whole.no 30- 
Young Siward: v. 7(7). Whole no. 7. 
Fleance: ii. 1(2). Whole no. 2. 
Son to Macdiiff: iv. 2(21). Whole no. 21. 
1st Witch: i. 1(6), 3(34); iii, 5(2); iv. 1(40). Whole no 82, 
2d Witch: i. 1(6), 3(12); iv 1(30). Whole no. 48. 
2)d Witch: i. 1(5), 3(14); iv. 1(29). Whole no. 48. 
Hecate: iii, 5(34); iv. 1(5). Whole no. 39. 

Lady Macbeth: i. 5(71), 6(11), 7(43); "• 2(46), 3(6); iii. 1(3), 2(18), 
4(40); V. 1(23). Whole no. 261, 

Lady Macduff: iv. 2(42), Whole no. 42, 
Gentlewojnan: v. 1(27). Whole no. 27. 
"^//"; ii, 3(2), iii. 5(1). Whole no. 3. 

In the above enumeration parts of lines are counted as whole lines, 
making the total of lines in the play greater than it is. The actual 
no. of lines is : i. 1(12), 2(67), 3(156), 4(58), 5(58), 6(74), 7(31), 8(82); ii. 
1(64), 2(73), 3(152), 4(41); iii. 1(142), 2(56), 3(22), 4(144), 5(37). 6(49) ; 
iv. 1(156), 2(85), 3(240); V. 1(87), 2(31), 3(62), 4(21). 5(52), 6(10), 7(29). 
6(75)' Whole no. in the play, 2108. The line-numbering is that of 
ihe Globe ed. 

Macbeth is the shortest of the plays, with the exception of the Comedy 
of Erroi's (1778 lines) and The Tempest {20^^. 





THE BELLMAN OF LONDON 

It was the owl that shriek'd, the fatal bellman, 
Which gives the stern'st good-night.— (ii. 2. 5.) 



INDEX OF WORDS EXPLAINED. 



a one, 222. 

abuse (=deceive), 187. 

access (accent), 171. 

Acheron, 223. 

actual, 246. 

addition {,=title), 164, 209. 

addressed (=made ready), 

190. 
adhere (= cohere), 179. 
admired (=admirable), 220. 
advise (^instruct), 209. 
afeared, 163. 
affeered, 239. 
alarm, 247. 
alarumed, 187. 
Aleppo, 157. 
all (—any). 210. 
all-hailed, 169. 
all-thing, 206. 
angel (=genius), 254. 
angerly, 223. 
anon, 152. 
antic, 234. 

anticipate (=prevent), 235. 
approve (=prove), 174. 
arbitrate, 251. 
argument (^theme), 201. 
armed (=armoured), 219. 
aroint, 156. 
artificial, 223. 
as, 204, 251. 
as (omitted), 199, 208. 
as 't were, 167. 
as who shouH say, 226. 
at a point, 241. 
at first and xast, 214. 
at odds, 222. 
at quiet, 198. 
auger-hole, 201. 
augurs, 221. 

authorized (accent), 218. 
avoid (=withdraw), 149. 
aweary, 252. 

baboon (accent), 229. 
baby (=doll), 220- 
badged, 200. 
bane (=^ruin), 250. 
bank, 177. 
banquet, 168. 



battle (■—battalion), 252. 
beguile, 172. 
bellman, 189. 
Bellona, 155. 
bend up, 182. 
benison, 205. 
bestowed, 207, 226. 
bestride, 237. 
Birnam, 232. 
birthdom, 237. 
bladed, 230. 
blanket, 171. 
blind-worm, 228. 
blood-boltered, 234. 
bodements, 233. 
bond, 231. 
boot, to, 239. 
borne (=managed), 224. 
borne in hand, 208. 
bought (=:gained), 178. 
brainsickly, 192. 
break to (with), 179. 
breeched, 200. 
breed (=:race), 241. 
brinded, 227. 
broad (=free), 225. 
broil (=battle), 152. 
bruited, 253. 
buskling, 135. 
buz, 243. 

cancel, 212. 

captains (trisyllable), 154. 

card (of compass), 157. 

careless (=uncared for), 167. 

casing, 214. 

catalogue, 208. 

Cawdor Castle, 155. 

censures (^judgments), 251. 

champion (verb), 208. 

chancemedley, 143. 

chastise (accent), 170. 

chaudron, 229. 

cheek, 220. 

cheer, 215. 

cherubin, 178. 

children (trisyllable), 243. 

chough, 221. 

chuck, 212. 

clept, 209. 



cling, 252. 

cloistered, 211. 

close (^secret), 223, 246. 

closed (=:enclosed), 209. 

cloudy (=frowning), 226. 

coign, 174. 

coM (dissyllable), 228. 

Colme-kill, 205. 

combustion, 199. 

come, 166. 

commend (=^^ commit), 177 

207. 
composition ( = terms of 

peace), 156. 
compt, 175. 

conference (dissyllable), 208. 
confineless, 239. 
confound (=;ruin), 189. 
confronted, 155. 
confusion ( ^ destruction ), 

199, 223. 
conjure (accent), 230. 
constancy (=firmness), 194. 
content (=satisfaction), 210. 
continent ( = restraining ), 

239- 
convert (intransitive), 245. 
convey ( = enjoy secretly), 

239- 
convince (^overcome), 180, 

242. 
copy (legal), 211. 
corporal, 162. 
countenance (verb), 199. 
course, 252. 
coursed, 175. 
cousin, 165. 
crack (of doom), 234. 
cracks (=charges), 154. 
cries ( = gives the signal), 

228. 
Cmnberland, 168. 

dainty of, 202. 

dear, 247. 

deliver (=report), 169. 

demi-wolves, 209. 

deny (=refuse), 222. 

despair (transitive), 253. 

devil (monosyllable), 164. 



262 



INDEX OF WORDS EXPLAINED. 



dew (verb), 248. 

digged, 229. 

direness, 251. 

dis-ease, 249. 

displaced (;=banished), 220. 

dispute, 245. 

distance (=ali2nation), 209. 

dollars, 156. 

doubt (=:suspect), 237. 

drink (^posset), 184. 

drowse, 213. 

dudgeon, 186. 

dun, 171. 

Dunsinane, 233. 

easy (adverb), 202, 253. 
eat (=ate), 204. 
eclipse, 229. 
ecstasy, 211. 
effects (^actions), 246. 
egg, 237. 

either (monosyllable), 253. 
embrace (=undergo), 210. 
enemy (dissyllable), 209. 
England (:=King of Eng- 
land), 239. 
enkindle unto, 164. 
enow, 198, 237. 
entrance (trisyllable), 170. 
estate, 252. 
evil (=scrofula), 242. 
exasperate, 226. 
expedition (=haste), 200. 

fact (=evil deed), 225. 
faculties ( := prerogatives ), 

fail (his presence), 226. 

fantastical, 161, 165. 

fare (dissyllable), 241. 

farrow, 230. 

favour, 166, 172. 

fears (=causes of fear), 165. 

fee-grief, 244. 

feel (dissyllable), 172. 

fell (=skin), 251. 

felly, 146. 

file (=list), 209, 247. 

filed _(=defiled), 208. 

firstlings, 235. 

fits o' the season, 235. 

flighty, 235. 

flout, 155. 

foisons, 240. 

for (= as regards), 235. 

for (=because of), 209. 

forbid (=accursed), 158. 

forced, 251. 

forge (=frame), 240. 

Forres, 158. 

frame, 210. 

franchised, 184. 



free (adverb), 184. 
fi'ee (=remove), 226. 
from (=apart from), 209. 
from (^because of), 236. 
from (=on account of], 225. 

fry> 237- 
fume, 181. 
function, 166. 
furbished, 154. 

gallowglasses, 153, 253. 
gentle my lord, 211. 
gently (^readily), 253. 
germens, 230. 
get (=beget), 162. 
gild (with blood), 192. 
gilt (play upon), 192. 
gin (=begin), 153, 252. 
gin (=snare), 236. 
give out (=show), 244. 
Glamis Village and Castle, 

160. 
go off (=die), 254. 
go to, 247. 
go with me, 213. 
God 'ield, 175. 
golden (blood), 200. 
goose (tailor's), 198. 
Gorgon, 199. 
gospelled, 208. 
gouts, 186. 
graced, 215. 
grapples, 209. 
grave {^g7-avis), 207. 
Graymalkin, 151. 
grooms, 189. 
grow, 167. 
gulf (^gullet), 229. 

hail (dissyllable), 152. 

hairs (pun on), 254. 

hangman ( = executioner), 
igo. I 

happy (^fortunate), 162. j 

harbinger, 168, 252. ' 

harness (=armour), 252. 

Harpier, 228. 

having (=possession), 162. 

heaven (plural), 183. 

heavy (= drowsy), 183. 

Hecate, 187, 222. 

hedge-pig, 227. 

here-approach, 241. 

hermits (=beadsmen), 175. 

him (=he), 254. 

his (=its), 177. 

his (=this one's), 240. 

holds (=withholds), 226. 
I holp, 175. 
I home (=complet6ly), 164. 

homety, 237. 
i horses (monosyllable), 204, 



hose (French), 198. 
housekeeper (=watch-dog). 

209. 
howlet, 228. 

human (=humane), 218. 
hurlyburly, 151. 
husbandry (=thrift), 183 
Hyrcan, 219. 

Icolmkill, 205. 
ignorant, 172. 
ill-composed, 240. 
illness (=evil), i6g. 
impress (—press), 233. 
in (=in case of), 209. 
in (omitted), 166. 
in (repeated), 222. 
incarnadine, 194. 
inch (=island), 156. 
Inchcolm, 156. 
informs, 187. 
initiate (adjective^ 222. 
insane (proleptic), 162. 
instruments (of persons), 245 
interest, 156. 
intermission, 245. 
intrenchant, 253. 
Zona, 205. 

jump (=risk), 177. 
jutty, 174. 

kerns, 153, 252. 

kind' St, 184. 

knell _(=passing bell), 188. 

knowings, 203. 

laced, 2CO. 

lack (=miss), 218. 

lamp (travelling), 203. 

lapped, 155. 

large (^^unrestrained), 214, 

latch (=:catch\ 244. 

lated, 213. 

lavish (=insolent), 155. 

leasings, 147. 

leave (=leave off), 211. 

leavy, 252. 

leman, 132. 

lesser, 162, 248. 

hberal (=too free), 138.. 

like (=likely), 204. 

lily-livered, 249. 

limbeck, 181. 

lime (=bird-lime), 236. 

limited (=appointed), 199. 

line (=strengthen), 164. 

list (^lists), 208. 

listening (transitive), 190. 

lodged, 230. 

loves (plural), 209. 

luxurious (=licentious), 239 



INDEX OF WORDS EXPLAINED. 



263 



Macdonwald. 153. 

magot-pies, 221. 

maiisionry, 174. 

marry, 225. 

martlet, 174. 

mated (=bewildered), 247. 

maukiH (,or mawkin', 152. 

maw, 229. 

meat (pionmiciation), 215. 

medicine, 248. 

memorize, 154. 

mere (^absolute), 240, 242. 

metaphysical, 170. 

mettle, 181. 

mile (plural), 252. 

minien (=darling), 153. 

minutely (=every minute^ 

_248._ 
mischief, 171. 
missives ( = messengers ), 

169. 
mockery, 220. 
modem (=ordinary), 243. 
moe, 250. 

monstrous (trisyllable), 225. 
mortal (=deadly), 171, 218, 

237-. 
mortality (^life), 200. 
mortified, 247. 
motives (persons), 238. 
mousing, 204. 
move, 236. 
mummy, 228. 
murther, 165. 
muse (:=wonder), 219. 

napkin, 198. 

naught, 245. 

nave (^navel), 153. 

near (=nearer), 202. 

near'st, 209. 

nice (=precise), 243. 

nightgown, 194. 

noise (=music), 233. 

nonpareil, 214. 

nor, 167, 199, 225. 

Norways', 156. 

Norweyan, 154. 

note (=list), 213. 

note (=notoriety), 212. 

nothing (adverb), 163, 248. 

oblivious, 250. 

obscure (accent), 199. 

o'ertook, 235. 

of (=by), 225, 226. 

offices, 184. 

old (colloquial), 197. 

on (=of), 162, 209, 247. 

one (pronunciation), 187, 

255- 
once (=ever), 251.. 



opened, 239. 

or ere, 243. 

other (= others), 157. 

other (=otherwise), 182,250. 

ourself, 207, 214. 

ourselves ( = each other ), 

215. 
out (=m the field), 243. 
overcome ( = overshadow ), 

220. 
owe (:=own), 162, 167, 220, 

251. 
owl, 188. 

Paddock, 152. 

pall (^wrap), 171. 
1 palter, 254. 
j parallel, 199. 
I parley, 199. 

parted (=died), 254, 

passion, 218. 

patch (=;fool), 249. 

pearl, 254. 

pent-house, 158. 

perfect, 237. 

perseverance (accent), 240. 

pestered, 248. 

physic (=cure), 199. 

pight, 148. 

place (in falconry), 203. 

poorly, 194. 

portable (= endurable), 240. 

possess with, 244. 

posset, 189. 

posters, 158. 

power (=army), 243. 

predominance, 203. 

present (—immediate), 156. 

presently (—at once), 242. 

pretence (;=purpose^, 202. 

pretend (=intend), 202, 204. 

probation (=proof ), 208. 

producing forth, 255. 

profound, 223. 

proof (^armour), 155. 

proper (ironical), 218. 

prophesying, 199. 

proportion, 167. 

protest, 248. 

prowess (monosj^llable), 254. 

pull in, 252. 

purveyor, 175. 

push (^onset), 249. 

put on (=set at work), 245. 

quarrel, 153, 241. 

quarry, 244. 

quell (=murder), 181. 

ravelled, 191. 
ravin, 204. 
rayined, 229. 



rawness, 238. 

readiness, 202. 

ready (=dressed), 202. 

receipt (^receptacle), 181. 

received (=believed), 181. 

recoil (=fall off), 238. 

remembrance ( quadris3'lla 

ble), 211. 
remorse (=pity), 171. 
require (=request), 214. 
resolve yourselves, 210. 
ronyon, 157. 
roofed, 215. 
rooky, 213. 
Ross, 162. 

round (=crown), 170, 231. 
rouse ( intransitive ), 213 

251. 
royalty, 207. 
rub, 210. 
rump-fed, 157. 

safe toward, 167. 

sag, 248. 

Saint Colme's Inch, 156. 

saucy, 214. 

say (=tell), 152. 

scanned, 222. 

scaped, 214, 245. 

Scone, 204, 255. 

scotched, 210. 

screw, 180. 

sear, 249. 

season, 222. 

seat, 174. 

seated (=fixed), 165. 

secret' St, 221. 

security ( ^ carelessness ) 
223 . 

seeling, 212. 

seems, 170. 

self (adjective), 255. 

self-abuse, 222. 
' sennet, 206. 

sense (plural), 247. 

senses, 174. 
t sensible, 186. 

sergeant (trisyllable), 152. 

set down, 250. 

sewer, 175. 

shag-haired, 237. 

shard-borae, 212. 

shine, 206. 

shipman, 157. 

shoal, 177. 

shoughs, 208. 

should, 155, 160. 

show ( = appear), 153, 161, 
252. 

show (theatrical), 234. 

shut up, 184. 

sicken (=be surfeited), 23© 



264 



INDEX OF WORDS EXPLAINED. 



sightless (,— invisible), 171, 

178. 
Sinel, 162. 
single ( = weak, etc.), 165, 

sirrah, 236. 

Siward, 241, 253. 

skirr, 250. 

slab, 229. 

sleave, igx. 

sleights, 223. 

slivered, 229. 

slope (transitive), 230. 

slumbery, 246. 

so (=as), 155. 

so (omitted), 156, 162, 177, 

178, 189, 190, 238, 240. 
sole, 238. 

solemn (=ceremonious), 206. 
solicit (=:move by prayers), 

242. 
soliciting, 165. 
something (adverb), 209. 
sometime, 175, 237. 
sooth, 147, 154. 
soothfastness, 147. 
sorry, 190, 210. 
speak (=say), 214. 
speculation, 219 
spoken (=said), 243. 
spongy (i=drunk), 181. 
sprigh'ts, 234. 
• spy 0' the time, 209. 
staff (=lance), 250, 253. 
stamp (-=coin), 242. 
stanchless, 240. 
start (=startle), 251. 
state (=chair), 214. 
station (=attitude), 254. 
stay (=wait for), 241. 
still (=always), 207, 254. 
stir (=motion), 166. 
stones (of judgment), 221. 
strides, 187. 
studied, 166. 

stuff (contemptuous), 218. 
success, 177. 
sudden (=violent), 239. 
summer-seeming, 240. 
surcease, 177. 
surmise, 166. 



surveying, 154. 
sway by, 248. 
sweaten, 230. 
syllable, 238. 

taint (=be infected), 248. 

taking-off, 177, 255. 

tale (—counting), 163. 

teems (transitive), 243. 

temperance (=self-restraint), 
240. 

tend (=attend), 154, 171. 

tendance, 170. 
1 tending, 170. 
I thaler, 156. ' 
j thane, 155. 

that, 155, 240, 241, 24s, 250. 
I the (=its), 179. 

the which, 207, 254. 

thee (dative), 183. 

thee (=thou), 170. 

thickens, 212. 

think, 239. 

thou, 250. 

thought ( = kept in mind), 
209. 

thralls C=slaves), 225. 

threat (verb), 188. 

tidings (number), 170. 

timely (=betimes), 213. 

timely (adverb), 199. 

titles (^claims), 235. 

to (=for), 238. 

to (=in addition to), 207. 

to (omitted), 215. 

took off, 255. 

top (crown), 231. 

top (verb), 239. 

top-full, 171. 

touch (^sensibility), 235. 

tour (=tower), 203. 

toward (and towards), 186. 

towering (in falconry), 203. 

trace, 235. 

trains (=tricks), 241. 

trammel up. 177. 

transpose, 238. 

treatise. 251. 

trenched, 214. 

trifled (=made trivial), 203. 

tugged, 209. 



twofold balls, 234. 
tyrant, 226. 

undeeded, 253. 
uneath, 132. 

unmannerly (adverb), 199. 
unrough, 247. 
unspeak, 241. 
upon a thought, 218. 
uproar (verb). 240. 
using (= cherishing), 210. 
utterance, to the, 208. 

valued (=:valuing), 209. 
vantage, 154, 164, 174. 
vaporous (drop), 223. 
venom (adjective^, 228. 
verity (= truthfulness), 24a 
vessel, 208. 
visards, 211. 

wage (noun), 148. 

warranted, 241. 

wassail, 180. 

water-rugs, 208. 

weird, 158. 

weird (dissyllable), 184. 

what, 221, 253. 255. 

whereabout, 187. 

which (omitted), 253. 

which (=who), 153. 

while (=till), 207. 

whiles, 169, 188, 213, 253. 

who (=whom), 209, 215. 

wholesome (=healthy), 24c 

wish to (=invite), 254. 

with (=lDy), 208. 

with (=on), 236. 

without (=beyond), 210. 

witness, 192. 

witnessed, 243. 

worm (—serpent). 215. 

worst (dissyllable), 209. 

would, 178, 238, 244, 254. 

wouldst, 169 

wrack, 164, 252. 

wrought (= agitated), 166. 

wrought .dissyllable), 184. 

yesty, 230. 

yew (poisonous), 229. 




Rolfe's Eno;lish Classics 

DESIGNED FOR USE IN HIGH SCHOOLS AND OTHER 
SECONDARY SCHOOLS 

Edited by WILLIAM J. ROLFE, Litt.D. 
Formerly Head Master, High School, Cambridge, Mass. 

Bound in uniform flexible cloth, 12mo. Illustrated. Each 56 cents 



BROWNING'S SELECT POEMS 

Containing Twenty Selected Poems with Introduction, Sketch 
of the Life of Browning, Chronological Table of his works, a 
list of the books most useful in the Study of his works. Critical 
Comments, and Notes. 

BROWNING'S DRAMAS 

Containing the following selections : "A Blot in the 'Scutcheon. " 
" Colcombe's Birthday," and " A Soul's Tragedy "—with Intro- 
duction, Critical Comments, and Notes. 

GOLDSMITH'S SELECT POEMS 

Three Poems, with copious critical and explanatory Notes, 
Biography of Goldsmith, and selections from memoirs of the 
poet by Thackeray, Coleman the Younger, Campbell, Forster, 
and Irving. 

GRAY'S SELECT POEMS 

Seven Poems, with the history of each and copious Notes. The 
Introduction contains Robert Carruther's Life of Gray and 
William Howitt's description of Stoke-Pogis. 

MILTON'S MINOR POEMS 

Containing all of Milton's Minor Poems except the Transla- 
tion, with biographical and critical Introductions, and historical 
and explanatory Notes. 

MACAULAY'S LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME 

The Introduction includes the Author's Preface, John Stuart 
Mill's Review, and Professor Henry Morley's Introduction to 
the " Lays." 

WORDWORTH'S SELECT POEMS 

Containing Eleven Poems, with full Notes. Illustrated by 
Abbey, Parsons, and other famous artists. 



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Rolfe's Edition of Shakespeare 

In Forty Volumes 

Edited for Schools with Notes by William J. Rolfe, Litt.D., 

Formerly Head Master of the High School, Cambridge, Mass. 

Merchant of Venice Henry VI. Parti. 

Tennpest Henry VI. Part 11. 

Midsunnnner-Night's Dream Henry VI. Part III. 

As You Like It Henry VIII. 

Much Ado About Nothing Romeo and Juliet 

Twelfth Night Macbeth 

Comedy of Errors Hamlet 

Merry Wives of Windsor Othello 

Love's Labour's Lost King Lear 

Two Gentlemen of Verona Cymbeline 

The Taming of the Shrew Julius Caesar 

All's Well That Ends Well Coriclanus 

Measure for Measure Antony and Cleopatra 

Winter's Tale . Timon of Athens 

King John Troilus and Cressida 

Richard II. Pericles 

Richard III. The Two Noble Kinsmen 

Henry IV. Part I. Titus Andronicus 

Henry IV. Part II. Venus and Adonis 

Henry V. Sonnets 

Uniformly bound in flexible cloth, i2mo, illustrated each 56 cents 
LAMB'S TALES FROM SHAKESPEARE 

Edited by Dr. William J. Rolfe. 

Comedies. Cloth, i2mo, 240 pages, illustrated . . 50 cents 

Includes tales from the following Comedies: " The Tempest;" 
"A Midsummer-Night's Dream;" "Much Ado About Nothing;" 
"As You Like It;" "The Two Gentlemen of Verona;" "The 
Merchant of Venice;" ." The Comedy of Errors;" "Twelfth 
Night;" " The Taming of the Shrew;" " The Winter's Tale." 

Tragedies. Cloth, i2mo, 270 pages, illustrated . 50 cents 

Includes tales from the following Tragedies: "Cymbeline;" 
" Romeo and Juliet; " " Pericles, Prince of Troy;" " Timon of 
Athens;" "King Lear;" "Macbeth;" "Othello;" "Hamlet, 
Prince of Denmark." 



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Text-Books in English 



BUEHLER'S PRACTICAL EXERCISES IN ENGLISH 

By H. G. BuEHLER, Master in English in the Hotchkiss SchooL 

Cloth, I2mu, 152 pages , .... 50 cents 

A drill-book for Grammar Schools and High Schools, containing 
a large number of exercises to be worked out by the student, with 
many definitions and discriminations in regard to the choice of words. 
The pupil is made to choose between the correct and incorrect forms 
of expression and to explain why he has done so. By this means he 
strengthens his own power of discrimination and acquires the principle 
of avoiding mistakes rather than correcting them. 

BUTLER'S SCHOOL ENGLISH 

By George P. Butler, formerly English Master in the Law- 
renceville School, Lawrenceville, N. J. 

Cloth, i2mo, 272 pages 75 cents 

A brief, concise, and thoroughly practical manual for use in 
connection with the written English work of Secondary Schools. It 
has been prepared specially to secure definite results in the study of 
Enghsh, by showing the pupil how to review, criticise, and improve 
his own writing. The book is based on the following plan for teach- 
ing English: (i) The study and discussion of selections from standard 
English authors, (2) constant practice in composition, (3) the study of 
rhetoric for the purpose of cultivating the pupil's power of criticising 
and improving his own writing. 

SWINTON'S SCHOOL COMPOSITION 

By William Swinton. Cloth, i2mo, 113 pages . 32 cents 

Prepared to meet the demand for a school manual of prose com- 
position of medium size, arranged on a simple and natural plan, and 
designed not to teach the theory of style and criticism, but to give 
pupils in Intermediate or Grammar School grades a fair mastery of 
the art of writing good English. 



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Composition and Rhetoric 



HILL'S FOUNDATIONS OF RHETORIC 

Cloth, 1 2mo, 346 pages $1.00 

For High Schools, Academies, and College Preparatory Schools. 
Designed to train pupils to say in written language, correctly, clearly, 
and effectively, what they wish to say. It gives a minimum of space 
to technicalities and a maximum to essentials. In language singu- 
larly direct and simple it sets forth the fundamental principles of 
correct speaking, and accompanies each rule with abundant illustra- 
tions and examples drawn from practical sources. 

HILL'S PRINCIPLES OF RHETORIC 

Cloth, i2mo, 431 pages $1.20 

For Colleges and Advanced Classes. Revised, rewritten, and 
enlarged by the addition of important new material. This text-book 
for advanced students is characterized by the soundness of its funda- 
mental conceptions, the clearness of its arrangement, the lucidity of 
its definitions, and its combination of scholarship and cornmon-sense. 
The treatment is based on the principle that the function of rhetoric 
is not to provide the student of composition with materials for thought, 
nor yet to lead him to cultivate style for style's sake, but to stimulate 
and train his powers of expression — to enable him to say what he has 
to say in appropriate language. 

QUACKENBOS'S PRACTICAL RHETORIC 

Cloth, i2mo, 477 pages $1.00 

For High Schools and Colleges. A comprehensive text-book in 
which the laws and principles which underlie rhetorical art are 
developed in a natural and logical manner, and their practical 
application in the different processes and kinds of composition are 
clearly shown. 

WADDY'S ELEMENTS OF COMPOSITION AND RHETORIC 

Cloth, i2mo, 416 pages $1.00 

SufHciently elementar)' for the lower grades of High School classes 
and complete enough for all Secondary Schools. Inductive in 
method, orderly in arrangement, and clear and comprehensive in 
treatment, with copious exercises in both criticism and construction. 



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Practical Rhetoric 

A. RATIONAL AND Comprehensive Text-Book for the use 
OF High Schools and Colleges. 

By JOHN DUNCAN QUACKENBOS, A.M., M.D. 
Emeritus Professor of Rhetoric in Columbia University. 

Cloth, 12 mo, 477 pages Price, $1.00 



This work differs materially from all other text- 
books of rhetoric both in plan and method of treatment. 
It first develops, in a perfectly natural manner, the laws 
and principles which underlie rhetorical art, and then 
shows their use and practical apphcation in the different 
processes and kinds of composition. The book is clear, 
simple, and logical in its treatment, original in its 
departure from technical rules and traditions, copiously 
illustrated with examples, and calculated in every way 
to awaken interest and enthusiasm in the study. A 
large part of the book is devoted to instruction and 
practice in actual composition work in which the pupil 
is encouraged to follow and apply genuine laboratory 
methods. 

The lessons are so arranged that the v;^xole course, 
including the outside constructive work, may be satis- 
factorily completed in a single school year. 



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any address^ ott receipt of the price, by the Publishers. Correspond- 
ence relating to terms for introduction is cordially invited, 

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For the Study of Literature 



BLAISDELL'S FIRST STEPS WITH AMERICAN AND 

BRITISH AUTHORS . . . . . . 90 cents 

This book is now presented in a thoroughly revised and im- 
proved form, making it still more valuable to teachers desirous of 
using the best methods of teaching literature. 
BROOKE'S ENGLISH LITERATURE (Literature Primer 

Series). ........ 35 cents 

A new edition of this popular text-book, revised and corrected, 
with chapters on the Victorian authors. 

HALLECK'S HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE . $1.25 
A new text-book treating the history and development of 
English literature from the earliest times to the present in a concise 
and interesting manner. 

JOHNSON'S OUTLINE HISTORY OF ENGLISH AND 

AMERICAN LITERATURE $1.25 

A comprehensive history of both English and American litera- 
ture, designed as a text-book for a year's study of the subject. The 
treatment is based on the historic method and in plan and arrange- 
ment is particularly well adapted for use in the study, the class room, 
or the reading circle. 

MATTHEWS'S INTRODUCTION TO THE STUDY OF 

AMERICAN LITERATURE $1.00 

A text-book of literature on an original plan, admirably designed 
to guide, to supplement, and to stimulate the student's reading of 
American authors. 
PHILLIPS'S MANUAL OF ENGLISH LITERATURE. 2 vols. 

Each $2.00 

A popular manual of English literature, including also outlines 
of French, German, Italian, and Spanish literatures, with historical, 
literary, and art notes. 

ROBERTSON'S HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE . $1.25 
A brief but comprehensive compendium of the history of English 
literature for secondary schools. 

WATKINS'S AMERICAN LITERATURE (Literature Primer 

Series) ........ 35 cents 

A text-book of American literature adapted to the comprehen- 
sion of pupils in intermediate or grammar schools. 



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A History of English Literature 

By REUBEN POST HALLECK, M.A. (Yale) 
Cloth, 12mo, 499 pages. With numerous illustrations. Price $1.25 



Halleck's History of English Literature is a concise and interest- 
ing text-book of the history and development of English literature 
from the earliest times to the present. While this work is sufficiently 
simple to be readily comprehended by high school students, the treat- 
ment is not only philosophic, but also stimulating and suggestive, and 
will naturally lead to original thinking. 

The book is a history of literature and not a mere collection of 
biographical sketches. Only enough of the facts of an author's life 
are given to make students interested in him as a personality, and to 
show how his environment affected his work. The author's produc- 
tions, their relation to the age, and the reasons why they hold a position 
in literature, receive treatment commensurate with their importance. 

One of the most striking features of the work consists in the way 
in which literary movements are clearly outlined at the beginning of 
each of the chapters. Special attention is given to the essential 
qualities which differentiate one period from another, and to the ani- 
mating spirit of each age. The author shows that each period has 
contributed something definite to the literature of England, either in 
laying characteristic foundations, in presenting new ideals, in improv- 
ing literary form, or in widening the circle of human thought. 

At the end of each chapter a carefully prepared list of books is 
given to direct the student in studying the original works of the 
authors treated. He is told not only what to read, but also where to 
find it at the least cost. 

The book contains as a frontispiece a Literary Map of England 
in colors, showing the counties, the birthplaces, the homes, and the 
haunts of the chief authors, specially prepared for this work. 



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American Book Company 

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An Introduction to the 

Study of American Literature 

By BRANDER MATTHEWS 
Professor of Literature in Columbia University 

Cloth, 12mo, 256 pages . . . Price, $1.00 



A text-book of literature on an original plan, and conforming 
with the best methods of teaching. 

Admirably designed to guide, to supplement, and to stimulate 
the student's reading of American authors. 

Illustrated with a fine collection of facsimile manuscripts, portraits 
of authors, and views of their homes and birthplaces. 

Bright, clear, and fascinating, it is itself a literary work of high 
rank. 

The book consists mostly of delightfully readable and yet 
comprehensive little biographies of the fifteen greatest and most 
representative American writers. Each of the sketches contains a 
critical estimate of the author and his works, which is the more 
valuable, coming, as it does, from one who is himself a master. The 
work is rounded out by four general chapters which take up other 
prominent authors and discuss the history and conditions of our 
literature as a whole ; and there is at the end of the book a complete 
chronology of the best American literature from the beginning down 
to 1896. 

Each of the fifteen biographical sketches is illustrated by a fine 
portrait of its subject and views of his birthplace or residence and in 
some cases of both. They are also accompanied by each author's 
facsimile manuscript covering one or two pages. The book contains 
excellent portraits of many other authors famous in American 
literature. 



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American Literature will be sent, prepaid to any address^ on receipt of 
the price ^ by the Publishers: 

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